


Hölle

by elriccore



Series: Exiled [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: :3c, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Edward Elric Stays Short, Edward Elric Swears, M/M, Misadventures in Xing, Parental Roy Mustang, Tags May Change, again theres a lot of 03 logic tossed in here so pls keep that in mind :], and pining.. so much pining, can we please make that a tag, ed and al bully each other because theyre Brothers, ed and ling are pining idiots always, it's basically just 03 stuff happening after the promised day and also Gay?, ling also has hypoglycemia because thats a pog headcanon, ling is fucking sleep deprived, listen the notes at the end of chapter 1 are Important, original characters but they arent the focus theyre just for the plot, s...ort of, the golden being thing, theres.. a lot of 03 elements but it IS mangahood lenient...., we just tossed the end of mangahood into the trashcan. bitch empty yeet, when i saw slow burn i mean Slow Burn.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elriccore/pseuds/elriccore
Summary: “Yeah, you’re right, I’m travelling. Been tons of places.” Setting down his case, Edward begun patting at his vest, proceeding to comb his fingers over long, sleep-frazzled locks of hair-- and tighten his ponytail holder; a bright, rubbery red thing.“As for who’s waiting for you?”Picking up his suitcase and pacing a few steps forward, Ed’s face shifted. The suddenly large, almost unknowingly mischievous smile gracing his features almost slightly hinting as to what he would say next--“The Emperor.”--Four years after the Promised Day, Edward Elric finally gets around to visiting Xing. It spirals into feelings he doesn't want to acknowledge, old wounds reopening, and a few new ones as well. Literally.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Alphonse Elric & Ling Yao, Edward Elric & Lan Fan, Edward Elric/Ling Yao, Mei Chan | May Chang & Edward Elric, Mei Chan | May Chang & Lan Fan & Ling Yao
Series: Exiled [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984003
Comments: 43
Kudos: 140





	1. I

“Wake up, sir.”

Edward awoke with a start. The first sensation he registered was the soft, white cloth of his dress shirt being jostled-- although he wasn’t sure who by. Now that he was awake, he didn’t even know where he was, or where he was supposed to be. The human mind could only go so fast after just waking up, he was sure of it.

Weary golden eyes drifted open, the alchemist squinting ahead of himself as the sun glared within his vision. The light reflected in on him would almost make the colour of his irises look inhumane, but the person beside him hadn’t seemed to notice, their warm hand still resting on the square of his shoulder.

It felt worn, he noted. Edward was used to hands like those. Hands that had felt better days, but most likely spent ages holding, moving, or gripping something. Hands of a hard-worker, hard and calloused. Yet the touch was gentle, and Ed could’ve sworn the sensation had felt all-too familiar.

He would be disappointed the moment he craned his neck, however.

“We’re at your destination.”

His gaze had ended out landing on a lad with greased back black hair, wearing clothes almost identical to his-- a black clip on his right arm, a dark brown vest, gray slacks, and black dress shoes that shone the reflecting light almost blindingly. Ed near immediately noted that he was alone, wherever he was-- expanding benches seeming to loop infinitely until he noticed that there were walls, windows (what had most likely been blinding him in the first place), and a set of doors parallel to each other.

Ah, _right. _A train.__

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” voice gravelly with sleep, the Amestrian laughed, “how long have I been holding you back?”

The man before him seemed to relax his shoulders, sighing with a slight hint of exasperation. “Not long. But I do remember your ticket saying your stop was Jīnsè, Xing, correct? The capital?”

Ed cleared his throat, causing the conductor-- _was that what he was? _\--__ to wince. Waving his hand carelessly towards the man, the blonde pushed himself upwards, grabbing onto the green metal railing of the bench seat he’d occupied himself on prior to do so.

“Yeah, you got it right. Thanks for waking me up--” with a strained grunt, Edward hopped on his feet to grab at his suitcase, which rested up on the rack above his seat-- “got people waiting for me at the station. Don’t wanna make ‘em wait longer than they have to, right?”

The conductor snorted, although it was debatable whether or not it was because of Ed’s attempts to grab his luggage. After a few moments of struggling, however, he’d managed to tug it down, letting out a heavy exhale as his forearm limply slung over his shoulder, brown valise in tow smacking against his back (which was something Edward refused to bear much mind).

“Right. Now who would you have waiting for you? Do you live here? You look like a travelling gentleman, or at least an author of some sort. A tourist, maybe?” Ed had at least appreciated the attempt to make conversation, lips quirking upwards at the sugary-sweet lilt dripping from the other’s voice.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m travelling. Been tons of places.” Setting down his case, Edward begun patting at his vest, proceeding to comb his fingers over long, sleep-frazzled locks of hair-- and tighten his ponytail holder; a bright, rubbery red thing.

“As for who’s waiting for you?”

Picking up his suitcase and pacing a few steps forward, Ed’s face shifted. The suddenly large, almost unknowingly mischievous smile gracing his features almost slightly hinting as to what he would say next--

“The Emperor.”

Ignoring the almost unbelieving, amused stare he got from his new companion, Edward continued off, black shoes creaking against the wooden floor.

\--

Ed was extremely used to shuffling and shoving his way through crowds at this point. This wasn’t much different, though he would admit that there were a lot more people in the bustling crowd of the station than he was used to. Central on a bad day was always packed at the train stop, but given he was in Xing-- a much larger country, smack dab in the middle of the _capital_ \-- he practically gritted his teeth whenever someone nudged him or ran past him particularly harshly. No one had any manners anymore, he _swore._

Not to mention how his other senses were being obliterated-- he smelt the wafting scent of unfamiliar food stalls from yards away, making him salivate within his own mouth. Of course, he hadn’t ate yet, having slept through the train ride that was scheduled for that day. His ears were being blasted with loud train whistles and the sounds of people talking, yelling, and beckoning for others to buy their goods-- and since Edward could barely see anything above his head (which was becoming an issue), he quickly realized that he didn’t have a single clue as to where he was going.

Now, Alphonse had said that he and Lan Fan would be there to pick him up-- though, realistically and almost frighteningly, he didn’t really know what being picked up necessarily entailed. And it’s not like he’d seen a mop of shiny golden hair anywhere around-- Al should’ve been extremely easy to pick out of a crowd. Ed knew that kid was as tall as ever. And, despite his best efforts, he himself had stayed at a solid five foot three.

That was _also_ an issue.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Edward’s brows furrowed. His lips quirked into a downwards frown, brown and silver suitcase still abusing his back from behind. His hands, at least, had been spared from the wrath of possibly becoming bruised or blistered, given he hadn’t given up the habit of wearing gloves.

Shoving and bumping shoulders past a few more people, a loudly and ecstatically exclaimed _“Brother!”_ too close to his ear made Ed pause. His head quickly turned, golden ponytail snapping to the side with it-- almost akin to a whip. Only then did his grimace seem to dissolve, face brightening in one awed blink.

“Alphonse!”

Still practically standing shoulder-to-shoulder, Ed was barely able to notice nor register that people had been giving them a few confused, almost startled looks, now walking around them (thank the damned _heavens _)__ as if not to jostle their conversation. Or whatever they thought they were doing, at the very least.

Regardless, Edward instantaneously relaxed, shoulders slumping with some form of relief flooding through his bones. He wouldn’t have to go through this for much longer. Alphonse looked extremely healthy and happy-- something that made Ed feel even better-- and a little too happy to see him for said older brother’s own ego.

“You shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Alphonse snorted, “it’s not like your taste in fashion has gotten any better.”

“That’s implying that my taste was ever bad.” Closing his eyes, Edward smiled, carelessly shrugging his shoulders. He just scarcely shook his head, not being able to pick up on the way Al arched his eyebrows.

“Your _vest-- _”__ Al grabbed at the article to prove his point, causing Ed’s eyes to flutter back open-- “is _red_. You stick out like a stop sign.”

Sputtering, Ed gawked at the other; soon pouting in rebuttal to the smug look he was given. He huffed, thereafter looking away, resisting the urge to drop his luggage right then and there to cross his arms. His own brother, insulting what he liked to wear-- this was horrible. That deserved the death penalty. Could Ling sentence Al to death, now?

“Yeah, whatever. I look fuckin’ _fantastic,_ thank you.” Chortling dryly, Ed’s gaze landed back onto his brother. “Where’s Lan Fan? Aren’t they supposed to be here with you?”

“Oh! Yeah, um--” Al’s face lit up, as if a switch flipped on in his head-- “she’s at a food stall, I think. They thought you might like something to hold you over until we get to the palace. Ling might’ve ordered her to, though.”

Humming, Ed nodded, using his spare hand to give Al a hearty pat on the back. He guffawed in response-- and paused to perk up, turning his back, causing Edward to (curiously) shift back as well.

“Were you talking about me?”

\--Edward had noticed a few things off the bat.

One-- Lan Fan’s hair was cut short, something definitely new. It was perfectly akin to a long pixie cut, but it was certainly fitting; the way he saw it. Two, they were wearing civilian’s clothing, probably to draw less attention to themselves-- donning a tank top, a light dress shirt overthrow, black flats, what looked like a paperboy hat, and some baggy pants; horribly similar to Ling’s. Three, she had three bags of what looked like groceries balanced in her arms, though from the scent emitting from them, he could tell that it was fresh food, almost definitely from one of the stalls.

While Ed blinked with a cocked head, Lan Fan sighed. After a few moments, she looked back up, a warm smile lighting up her face, jostling the bags in their arms to stay balanced.

“Welcome to Xing, Edward.”

\--

The rumble of the car would’ve been almost comforting, if Ed hadn’t been sitting on a train waiting to get to the other side of the damn world for the past few days. He didn’t think he could stand sitting back anymore any longer than he had to.

One leg was carelessly draped over the other, hand cupping his cheek in his hand as he gazed out the window, absentmindedly shoving another pork bun into his mouth without a care in the world. Alphonse was sitting beside him, jotting some things down onto a notepad, while Lan Fan drove in front of them. The road, he noticed, was made of an extremely smooth brick-- not stone like Central’s, but still extremely pretty. The streets were filled from side to side with people, plant life, merchant stalls, and massive homes with not a single gap spacing each other out.

Given the time of day, at that point, was dusk-- everything was painted a beautiful orange and yellow. With the clear, skin-tickling warm sky looming overhead, Ed had really wondered why he hadn’t bothered visiting Xing any sooner-- of course, he wanted to see a few other places before he did anything else, and he still did want to visit Table City after he spent his time here. But the roaring water of nearby fountains and designated park areas really had made those thoughts vanish and dissolve into thin air.

Reaching into the brown paper bag with a soft rustle, the car _jolted _forwards,__ causing Ed to jump and make a startled choking noise-- Alphonse not flinching an inch, only looking up, pushing himself to the side to look ahead of the car itself (Ed trying to calm his breath the whole while).

“What the _hell,_ Lan Fan?!”

Lan Fan pursed their lips, and Al snickered. Taking her hands off of the wheel, she turned around to face the brothers, the smooth, untainted leather of the seat squeaking and protesting with the movement. Alphonse still looked only mildly confused, Ed running a hand down his own face.

“We’re here, boys.”

Blinking owlishly, Edward removed his hand from his face, gaze darting to Lan Fan for a moment; head immediately turning to the side, hurriedly fumbling his right hand to grasp at the car door’s handle, shoving it open and quickly stepping out with a hint of a stumble. Alphonse exited the car much more gracefully, shaking his head with a wistful smile, attaching his pen to the rungs of the notepad he’d been scribbling on; and carefully stepped onto the extravagant pavement.

“Hot damn.”

Whistling, the shorter blonde gazed almost intimidatedly at the massive structure before him, the bright red and horrifyingly bright gold of the palace almost blinding his vision. The frontal garden was littered with perfectly clean and gleaming gold poles, fences, and flora and ponds and seemed to go on for forever, led by a worrying amount of marble stairs. Exquisite lanterns dangled from some of the poles, hanging from some layers of the palace itself, the sound of light jingling akin to wind chimes blessing the area enough to make it seem so _unreal._

Lan Fan, after climbing out of the car, shifted to the side, taking note of the awed way Ed had been staring at the palace-- if almost for a little bit too long, soaking in every little crevice and crack that he could lay his eyes on. They laughed light-heartedly, stepping over to him to lay a relaxed hand on his shoulder.

“Stop gaping, Edward. You aren’t even inside yet.”

\--

“Ling never told me he was hogging a place like this. Kinda overdoing it, don’t’cha think?”

There was so much gold. The floors, the pillars, the ceiling-- well, the ceiling was more-or less painted with varied ornate colours, shining like silk reflected off of the sun. The fires within the lanterns pattering the pillars flickered and lit up the reflective surfaces of the room around them, casting a low, warm glow across the large hall leading into the throne room.

Ed could barely see the walls themselves with the lack of windows closed in on them, but he assumed they were painted in some way. The floor itself let out a hearty, yet satisfying _‘tap’_ whenever any of them took even a single step, patterned almost as if actual tiles were laying there. The palace seemed to smell of vanilla and lavender, and some other fancy oils and smells that were probably meant for the Emperor that he couldn’t lay a single finger on.

“ _Oh_ , that’s what he said when he was first appointed,” Alphonse titled his head back, chuckling, “I was right on time for his official crowning! He thought the palace was really overdone, but he liked it-- he said something about Greed rubbing off on him.”

Ed pursed his lips.

“He was kind of sad that you weren’t there. I told him that you were going to rebuild our house and then start travelling, but you’d come visit eventually! He moped like a sad puppy when I told him that.”

A snort. “Figures.”

Taking their first step into the throne room, Ed peered around, noting that the area itself was entirely round-- and with more lanterns hanging at varying heights from the ceiling, he could see the walls a little bit better; although it was still awfully warm and dark. The walls, at least in that room, were in fact painted-- marking what he assumed were alkahestry-related things, the desert, the Western Sage-- and those in particular were just the tip of what he saw at first glance. When he had looked up, the ceiling was painted as well, rimmed by gold, soft clouds dancing around the edges.

His thought process was soon interrupted, however.

“Mr. Edward!”

Breath hitching in his throat, Ed’s head flitted to the source of the voice, eyes landing on--

“Oh-- hey, May!” Alphonse, as if reading Edward’s mind, had piped up for him, flashing an extremely bright smile directed at the two entrances opposing the large platform and throne that rested against the middle of the back wall.

May, on her own, wasn’t wearing anything fancy. She’d grown taller, Ed had thought, grimacing at the idea of May possibly being even taller than him by now. He didn’t want to step ahead and find out.

She was noticeably lacking Xiao-Mei at the moment, a light pink, black, and white qipao draped over her shoulders. Her hair was tucked up into a bun, but she looked as bright and riled up as ever; something that Ed wouldn’t take any qualms with.

“Alphonse! Has your brother caused any _issues_ yet?” Sounding stuffy and reassured, May puffed her cheeks out, hands on her hips.

“No, May,” he snickered, “not yet.”

Closing his eyes, Ed frowned, still tightly grappling his suitcase. “I’m not going to cause whatever _‘issues’_ you think I am. Stop being mean, _squirt_ \--”

“Edward.”

There was a pause, and Ed opened his eyes--

“You do realize that she’s taller than you now, right?”

_Ling._

Ed felt his throat constrict around him, and he looked the prince-- shit, no, _Emperor_ \-- up and down for what felt like way too long-- and probably had been, with the confused way Ling was watching him back, extremely amused, but still making Ed fluster and swallow nonetheless.

He certainly looked.. Ed wouldn’t say he looked _happy_. To see him he most likely was, of course, and he seemed mildly excited, but the bags under his eyes and sardonic smile that wasn’t all the way there didn’t really come through to Edward as him having been going through the best time recently.

Then again, being the emperor was probably tiring.

“It’s so good to see you, Ed! You look very well.” Ling clapped his hands together, and Ed jumped. “You should’ve sent more letters! I _do_ appreciate that you at least notified me of your arrival, but you should’ve given me more _time,_ I would’ve set up something _larger_ \--”

Alphonse turned his gaze to Ed, squeezing his eyes shut and continuing to grin, chest bouncing up and down as if he were restraining laughter. Ed’s lips quirked farther downwards, and his gaze narrowed as he shot Al a _look,_ making him cough and turn away.

May, still standing by the archway near the throne, right beside Ling, placed a hand to the bridge of her nose at the rambling.

“ _\--oh,_ I’m so happy you’re here, I really need something to get my mind off of this ‘emperor thing’, and you’re perfect for this, I’m sure you’ll lift some weight off of my shoulders during your stay! Oh, I’ll show you this one place I really like in the garden--”

_“Ling.”_

Ling’s jaw snapped shut, and Ed shakily grinned, feeling his forehead throb just listening to the loud rambling that he was sure would go on if he let it, probably for too long, and Ed’s nerves (and even teeth, now) were already grating enough.

“..It’s nice to see you too.”

Turning away from Alphonse, Ed made an attempt to beam; just a little. Ling’s lips parted just barely, blinking, and he began to laugh. The Emperor quickly strode over, scooping Edward up, crushing him in what felt like a hug that’d challenge Armstrong’s own. Ling seemed to steal Ed’s breath, Edward making a sound akin to a gag while Ling began rambling again.

“Oh, you really don’t know how horrible being the emperor is! My court is so _stubborn,_ they don’t want the old traditions to _change,_ but we’re getting new volunteers everyday-- and you’re so small, still, you haven’t grown an inch! ” Ling whined, and Ed’s headache worsened.

It was going to be a long night.

\--

“This is Edward!”

Ed hissed through his teeth. Being presented in front of a court, almost like a drawing to be clipped to a fridge felt so strange-- but this _apparently_ had to be something done (according to Ling) if he was going to stay in the palace. The convincing smell of food before him urged him to jump out of Ling’s grasp on his shoulders, and he had to use all of his restraint-- and Alphonse’s invisible support through his gaze-- to not do exactly that.

One of the court members adjusted their glasses-- an older one, staring him up and down, and Ed had never felt more uncomfortable than he had in that moment. It’s like they were analyzing him, trying to approve of him, and he really didn’t understand what the importance of this was. It felt gross. His lips pursed.

 _“Another_ Golden Being? Your Majesty Yao, where do you _find_ these men?”

 _‘Golden Being’--?_ Were they talking about his eyes? Hair?

“He’s my brother,” Alphonse shrugged, causing the court’s heads to collectively shift towards him, “he’s older than me by two years.”

“He _also_ fed me a boot once!” Ling cheerfully and casually piped in, causing their gazes to scurry again, and Ed bit down on his lip to resist a rising smile and snort bubbling up in his chest, savouring the way they looked like they couldn’t focus on one single thing. “He’s the _Fullmetal Alchemist,_ Edward Elric.”

Two members near the end of the back narrowed their eyes, the rest lighting up.

“Now let’s eat, shall we?”

\--

“I’m not sure who’s more of a glutton, you or Ling,” Alphonse giggled, placing a stray journal from Ed’s suitcase onto a nearby desk, “I’ve never seen anyone eat so many dumplings before. I think you scared the court.”

The bedroom Ling had given Ed was certainly.. something. Ed had said it was certainly too fancy for his tastes, and way too large for one single person-- but Ling had insisted on giving him this one, saying it had bookshelves upon bookshelves it had that he could skim through, a writing desk, and a bed (which Ed was sure could fit about five other people, really) lined with red and gold silken sheets.

It even had its own little hot spring bath, which was extremely nice.

Ed wouldn’t lie, the marble flooring and the almost cherry-coloured, dark oaken walls were beautiful-- perfectly polished, not a single smudge residing on them. There were tall candles on the opposing sides of his bed resting on nightstands that had matched with the walls, answering his question as to where the lavender scent had come from in the first place.

The Elrics had come from a farming town. Ling should have known this. Alphonse was easier to adapt, and Ed loved travelling, but this felt so foreign (haha) to him-- as pretty as he would admit the room was. He wouldn’t complain any farther than he had been before, however.

“And I’ve never tasted anything so good in my _life,_ " Ed swooned, long blonde hair billowing out to the sides against feather pillows, “I didn’t even know what those things _were_. I’m jealous of Ling, Al.”

Alphonse smiled, and Ed perked up a little, patting down the gray tank top he’d opted to use as a nightshirt. He let out a soft little sound akin to a _‘pspsp’ _,__ and a black munchkin cat came bounding onto the bed, toppling him over and making its bed on his chest.

Sighing contentedly, Ed closed his eyes, raising a hand to card his fingers through the cat’s fur above him. Alphonse set down a few more objects, blinking at the sight of a bright red coat tucked into the bottom corner-- wrinkled and covered with specks of dirt, and even a few stains, like it’d never been taken out of that spot since it was placed.

“Where do you plan on going after Xing, brother?”

Edward opened his eyes.

“Dunno. I wanted to go to Table City and see if they had anything on this specific type of alchemy I read about. They apparently have a mini-slum town called _‘Milos’_ on the Cretian borders,” staring down the velvet canopy arching over the bed’s poles, Ed shrugged, “the Colonel gave me a book on it when we were younger. Probably gonna stay in Resembool for a while after that.”

Al hummed, closing the case, flicking up the locks and setting it down onto the floor with a resounding ‘thud’.

“I’ll go with you.”

Ed turned his head, gaze unamused and thoughtless. 

“I haven’t been back in Resembool for a while, you know,” Alphonse turned around, head tilted, smile as bright as ever-- “it’d be nice to stay at home for a while.”

Ed’s features softened, and the cat above him purred, eyes squinted.

“Yeah, I guess so.” The blonde lolled his head back. “How’s’a’bout you tell me what you learned from May over some breakfast tomorrow? We can catch up.”

Striding towards the door, Al stopped to run a hand over the cat atop Ed, giving it a light scritch to its ear, Ed’s gaze following, until he began moving again. He paused with his hand resting on the door handle, thumb running over it with delicate care.

“..That’d be nice, Ed. Good night, brother.”

“G’night, Al.”

Ed blew the candles out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> Things to Note About Chapter 1:
> 
> Q: Why does Ed still have his alchemy?  
> A: he.. technically doesn't!!!!! i use that really loosely because the way it works in this au (or alternate timeline???) is that he just lost all of his knowledge of alchemy when he gave up his gate :3c he's travelling to relearn everything!!!! he can't clap anymore but he can still technically use alchemy. u probably won't see him use it much if at all tho. he uses katars to fight
> 
> Q: Why is Lan Fan referred by both she/her and they/them??  
> A: lan fan is a nonbinary icon it's my canon i can do what i want
> 
> Q: Cat???  
> A: ed and al have a cat!!!!! they swap it around whenever they meet up with each other. al calls it paprika ed calls it shitface
> 
> Q: How long is this going to be?  
> A: i.. estimate abt 15 chapters??? ive drafted to chapter 5 already and thats where we really start hitting the plot
> 
> Q: What's with the Parental Roy tag? Where's Dad™??  
> A: he'll get here just you wait
> 
> Q: what the fuck is exiled  
> A: good question! (it's just a three fic series where i go off about post-promised day shenanigans but mix it up with 03 and ed and ling r gay)
> 
> Q: What's with the Sacred Star of Milos references?  
> A: second fic. you'll see
> 
> \--  
> Bonus Facts:
> 
> \- jīnsè means gold in chinese. xing is very particular about gold if u've noticed that  
> \- yes may is taller than ed. also xiao-mei is still alive dont worry abt their abscence (xiao-mei is dead we swapped them for shitface in the equivalent exchange /j)  
> \- ling does not like his job. this is Important  
> \- if u think u picked up on any foreshadowing yes u did💕  
> \- ed looks EXACTLY like he does in cos 2 give u an idea of what he looks like. like al says though his vest is a very bright red  
> \- i actually have references and concept art for ed and ling so if anyone wants them and if this gains traction i'll probably post them on my tumblr <3  
> \- yes ed goes psspspsppsspp he himself is a feral cat he would know what cats like  
>   
> that should be all to keep in mind!!! have fun <3


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That had marked the moment Edward wished he didn’t visit Xing."

The first thing Ed was greeted to waking up was his face being absolutely covered in fur.

Of course, he couldn’t say that he hadn’t expected it. He sealed his own fate deciding to knock out with that _stupid_ little furball. And even then, he didn’t necessarily mind it. It wasn’t pleasant, having a bunch of fluff tickling your face-- especially when waking up-- but even then, it was alright.

He’d decidedly gone too long laying like that, though.

Waving a hand and nudging the beast above him off of his face (which he doubted was very comfortable and suited to use as a pillow in the damned first place), Edward wheezed.

“Alright, you stupid-ass cat. Git.”

And just like that, almost in knowing response to the muffled words, the horrible creature scurried away, only once kicking at the blonde’s nose while getting its footing. The kick in question made Ed sputter, spitting out a stray strand of fur that got stuck between his lips during the commotion. Daring to sit up, Edward soon huffed in exasperation, slowly carding his-- very much flesh, something he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet-- fingers through his bangs.

_Fucker._

Alright. Fur was something he no longer had to deal with. What the alchemist _did_ have to deal with, though..

_His stomach rumbled._

..Was _breakfast._ Now, he had agreed to going out with Alphonse for food to catch up-- but at the same time, did he really have to get out of bed? It wasn’t his fault that the Xingese made beds so goddamn comfortable. Sure, they were weirdly large in contrast, but god if they didn’t make him feel warm and safe despite everything.

Say, how was he even going to get out of the palace? The place looked massive. Would Alphonse lead the way? Had he been through here a lot? Did he actually stay at the palace, or was it just Edward that had been offered a room? Surely not, but it was funny to consider Ling and May picking favourites. Ed was sure that he himself wouldn’t be the favourite, though.

Willing himself to crawl out of the big, warm, velvety bed he previously had resided on, Ed sighed dramatically-- evoking a quiet meow in response from the cat that’d managed to curl its way under his given desk. The Amestrian’s gaze shifted, and he felt himself relax.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t wanna get up, either,” he snorted, “but I promised Al we’d catch up today.”

A blink from Shitface.

“Don’t give me that look. I’ll buy you something to snack on when I get back.”

Somehow, the animal managed to blink more contentedly-- and Ed began to stretch. He barely managed to notice the sound of a door clicking shut behind him, a soft padding grabbing Shitface’s attention. Soon, a quiet yawn filled the room, and Edward turned around with curious eyes.

“G’morning, brother.”

“Hey, Al.”

Al on his own was already entirely dressed; dark gold hair tied behind his head in a careless ponytail, donning a diamond-lined sweater vest on top of an off-white button-up. He seemed to be wearing khakis, something that made Ed’s eyebrows slightly arch. In his own opinion, he looked like a nerd.

Ed shuffled towards his desk, eyeing the tall mirror that stood beside it. He grabbed for a ponytail holder, quickly tucking his hair behind his head with little to no concern about brushing it-- dexterous hands tugging the band upwards and running over his scalp to ease the more frizzy parts.

“So, you decided where we’re gonna eat today?” 

“Oh! Yeah,” Al hummed, voice a little raspy from sleep, “there’s this one outdoor café you might like. It serves Amestrian food too in case you end out not liking what they serve there, but I usually go there on days I study with May.”

Ed’s gaze shifted to his brother.

“There’s also this really nice lady named Mrs. Pān that gives me free duck when she works there! Her husband works in Ling’s court, I think. You’d love her, she looks a lot like Mom.”

Nodding, Ed’s head turned in every which way until he’d finally decided on a direction-- quickly striding over to a wicker basket full of folded clothes-- _his_ clothes. Quickly pulling a shirt out from the top of the pile, he felt his lips quirk a hitch upwards.

“Alright,” he said, almost too confidently, “we’ll go there, then.”

\--

“So, what’ve you been working on with May recently?”

The streets were still bustling. They weren’t as busy as the train station from the day prior, Ed noted, but still awfully packed. The streets themselves were even more lively than they had looked to be from the car yesterday, and Ed swore that there were more stands set out than yesterday. Assorted cloth, fruits, food, trinkets, and antiques were all dangling or wafting out from the stalls, people exclaiming in attempts to catch their attention. 

At one point, one of the merchants had actually grabbed Edward, hoping to rope him in to buy a bouquet of flowers for that “special person in his life”. Needless to say, he didn’t have much of a response to that (although it had garnered a chuckle out of Alphonse), having simply attempted to make a polite dismissal of the over-the-top offer.

People had given the two of them a few looks, but Ed figured it was the golden eyes and hair again. That came over as a big deal the night before, too. It wasn’t every day that a person with sun-kissed skin, golden hair, and unnaturally yellow eyes came trotting into a foreign country-- especially two in tow.

Then again, it could’ve also been the way his leg clanked when he walked. He hoped it wasn’t that noticeable, and he could’ve swore it wasn’t with all of the talking going on.

“Not much,” Al shrugged, “I’m still not that great at reading the Dragon’s Pulse. I keep trying to make sense of it, but it just isn’t logical science-wise.”

Ed snickered.

“We’ve made some progress, though. I’ve actually learned out how alkahestry can heal people-- I’ve tested it out on Ling a few times.”

“Ling? Why him?”

“He’s the _emperor_ , Ed,” scratching at his scalp, Alphonse closed his eyes, “he gets quite a few assassination attempts every now and again. It doesn’t fly over very well. Just a month ago, a little while after I said you’d be visiting soon, someone tried to take his life while he and Lan Fan were sparring in the garden. They were doing fine while they waited for the guards, but Ling shielded himself with one of his arms-- the assassin’s blade cut really deep into the flesh there, and I decided it’d be a good way for me to see if I learned anything.”

 _Arms--_ Ed winced. 

That.. _could’ve_ had something to do with Greed, really. While Ed hadn’t gotten used to having two flesh arms, Ling probably wasn’t used to being without Greed. It was a little ironic, given how both of them didn’t go very long with either of their respective _struggles,_ but the thought did make him nip at his lip for a moment.

“I don’t even know what I expected.” Smiling wistfully, Ed shook his head, and Alphonse rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“So what’ve you been doing? You just kind of.. fell off the grid. You weren’t doing so hot when you left home.”

“Not much,” Ed mumbled, “I’ve traveled to Aerugo. Stayed in there for a while, ended out in a small dustball in the middle of hicktown. There was an epidemic that broke out there for a few weeks, so I had to stay in a busted up motel. Wasn’t allowed to send any letters.”

Alphonse pursed his lips as the café came into view.

“I didn’t learn _or_ remember that much there. Turns out they mostly use alchemy for normal stuff like building.” Ed waved his hand. “I think the only thing I learned was that their country’s a monarchy, or something like that. Wants a peace treaty with Amestris.”

“That’ll have to be something you pass onto the General, then,” Al beamed, “and then he’ll pass it onto Fuhrer Grumman, and then when his reign is done..”

“Ugh, you know I hate politics."

“Yeah, yeah, I know--” the other blonde began giggling, nearing a fancy black chair and pulling it out-- “c’mon, brother. We should probably eat.”

“..We’re here? _Already_?” Blinking, Ed lowered himself onto a seat, sweeping over the area with his eyes to ground himself in reality.

“It’s not my fault you tend to space out often.”

“I _just_ woke up _._ Leave me alone, Al.” 

Much to Ed’s chagrin, Al continued to stifle his laughter-- hell knows why he found pleasure in his suffering. Maybe it was a sibling thing. Or maybe it was payback for sticking him in a suit of armor for the lot of his formative years, he really couldn’t tell. Moments later, a young waiter waltzed up to the pair, passing out menus and saying something in Xingese that.. Ed couldn’t understand.

Sure, he could make out a few words. He made sure he knew _some_ of the language itself before he came here, but what he knew were basic things like greetings and “thank you”s. Not this. He hadn’t thought any of this through, really. Al, however, seemed to acknowledge that, nodding and opening his mouth.

Quickly enough, an onslaught of foreign sounds rolled off of the tip of Al’s tongue-- Ed blinking at the speed and normality at which he spoke with. To be fair, Alphonse had always been a little more useful in situations like these. Ed, however, was in a bit of a rush to visit Xing before he’d even finished packing up, really.

The waiter quickly turned his gaze to Edward, and the alchemist’s face flushed. He felt himself tense and shift in his seat, not really sure on what to say or do-- given he hadn’t the slightest clue as to what Alphonse was saying.

“Alright, brother. What do you want?”

In a moment of panic, Ed’s head whipped downwards to stare at his menu. _At least,_ he thought, _it had a choppy translation set off to the side._ Sure, he was unfamiliar with a lot of the selection, but Alphonse was at least right about the select Amestrian cuisines being apart of the catalog. To be fair, a lot of people here probably hadn’t much time to learn Amestrian anyways-- given a lot of people had only started travelling after Bradley was killed.

Not to mention it was a whole different country. They didn’t owe anyone to learn the language regardless.

“Y’know--” Ed stuttered, “just.. get me dumplings and orange juice, Al. That’s really all I-- okay.”

There was a moment of silence.

Smiling nervously, Alphonse turned back to the waiter, most likely repeating what Ed had said to the man eyeing them. He sounded a little bit strained, and his chest bounced-- most likely holding back laughter. The boy quickly jotted down the order onto the notepad, and quickly strode away. 

“Okay, _well_ , I didn’t exactly expect you to get orange juice.” Oh god, was Al finally going to start laughing? “At least you haven’t changed that much.”

Ugh.

“Yeah, okay, _whatever,_ ” putting his hands up, Ed squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, “and you still liked to drink out of a sippie cup when you were like.. eight. You probably sleep with a fuckin’ teddy bear every night.”

Alphonse jumped, and his face flushed; letting out a loud, angry noise.

“I-- I do _not!_ ”

“ _Oh_ , you totally do.” Ed grinned, arms crossing on the table. His eyes opened back up, sharp and _mischievous._ “You probably named it Mr. Sparkles or something. Alphonse Elric, age eighteen, like six feet tall. Cuddles a teddy every night, how _preposterous--_ ”

“I--” Al stood up out of his chair, slamming his hands on the table-- “ _am--”_

Cutting himself off, Al turned his head to the crowd, most likely just now noticing how loud he’d been the moment prior. His face, somehow, had managed to turn even redder-- Ed trying his damndest to hold back the laughter clawing at his lungs and gnawing at his bones. Eyes wide, the latter furrowed his brows, lips twitching slightly as he stepped away and pushed his chair in. How rude.

Their food hadn’t even gotten there yet.

“--going to the bathroom.”

 _God._ Al began skulking away, and Ed finally let out a loud _wheeze_ , horrifyingly akin to a dying donkey. Soon, Alphonse vanished into a nearby resting house, and Ed took that time to calm his breath and body. He had to reassure himself that he was _not_ dying, and that there were, in fact, people staring at him in confusion, and that he had to make the slightest attempt not to get kicked out of a café the first day he’d gone there.

Okay. Okay. Calm.

After a few moments, Ed straightened himself, squirming in his chair to look around. Most people had gone back to eating their meals, though some (mostly kids) would occasionally twist their heads to get another glance at the man who immediately caused a moment of commotion. At one point, Ed had maintained eye contact with one of the children and waved almost nervously, causing the child to immediately whip their head back around to their parents.

Alphonse was still gone, though Edward doubted he was actually that upset.

Their food still hadn’t come yet, either.

Clearing his throat, Ed looked around again, now a little bit more impatient to find something to do. Eventually, he found a lone newspaper stand-- god, hopefully some copies were in Amestrian-- and sat up a little bit too quickly for his liking. Briskly, he waltzed over to the racks, whipping the folded paper out and grasping it with a slight tensity that had most likely been caused by his sudden abandonment.

Oh, thank the fucking non-existent God above. There were three racks, stacked side-by-side-- one in plain Amestrian, one in Xingese, and another one in another language he didn’t recognize. Of course, he wasn’t exactly.. sure how popular this paper was, especially to have multiple translations, but he wouldn’t bother much with the fine details. It was convenient, at least.

And in the back of his own mind, Ed scolded himself, staring the front of the newspaper down as he made his way back to his table. He felt old, reading a newspaper. He knew that Mustang occasionally read them in his office if he wanted to avoid paperwork, but it was something that the blonde never mentioned. To be fair, though, boredom was getting the best of him here.

Brows furrowing and eyes narrowing tiredly, Ed plopped back down in his seat, opening the paper up with brash carelessness. The flimsy paper flapped slightly in the wind, protesting against the direction he sat.

Not much was in there. Advertisements lined the top and bottom of the paper-- something about cars, farmer’s markets, restaurants.. There were also advertisements for personal services, like cleaning, laundry, and fortune telling, but that didn’t really strike out or gather Ed’s attention much.

Fortune telling did sound the slightest bit weird, though.

Chewing at his bottom lip as he kept reading, he scanned his eyes over the sections of the paper-- stuff Ling had been doing, poverty in nearby small villages, recent deaths within the capital (though Ed found it a bit odd that a damn city would keep a death count), and even a few things about Alphonse near the back. Apparently he’d been doing alchemy lectures that he’d never cared to bring up.

Skimming over the death count with mild curiosity ( _Wang, Wu, Gāo_ , _Hán, Feng, Xiāo)_ , he flicked his finger towards the last page. It was a bunch of advertisements bundled up in one area, but to be fair, Edward didn’t have anything else to do. And looking back up, seeing Alphonse nowhere in sight-- what the hell. It didn’t mean anything if he looked through it.

Once again, he’d came across that damn weird fortune teller advertisement strip. Its section was a little bit larger than the rest-- detailing what the apparent psychic (or whatever, really) did, and a few witnesses ( _Wang-- Wu-- Gāo_ \-- _Hán)_ gushing about how good the lady in question was. What a weird chick.

Except the common-place of the last names between the two felt a little weird, and absorbed in his reading, Edward hadn’t picked up on Alphonse _noisily, aggressively,_ sitting down in front of him with an unamused face. Noticing that he didn’t even flinch at his audible seating, though, Alphonse’s faked-gravely face let up.

“ _Brother_ , what are you--”

“Hey, Al. Look at this for a second.”

Shoving the paper in his face, Al blinked; face contorting to one of shock at the item being waved at him before resuming with its groveling after a moment of staring. He roughly took the paper, Ed’s lips quirking downwards at the quick movement, but he crossed his arms and patiently sat.

“Listen. Look at the list of people who’ve died recently-- last page,” Alphonse flipped as he was told, sighing, “and then look at the people who’ve reviewed that fortune teller. I wanna make sure I’m not going crazy here.”

Blinking, Alphonse’s eyelids dropped with a sense of boredom, trying his best to feed into his brother’s own superstitions. Or whatever the hell this was.

“They have the same last names,” he mumbled, “but I don’t get how that’s such a big deal. They're common surnames.”

“ _Murder,_ Al,” Ed repeated, a little louder, “they died by being _killed._ They’re all in mass, too. Families. Doesn’t the consistency bother you a bit?”

Alphonse shrugged.

Groaning, Ed took back the paper. He eyeballed the object once again, tossing it down onto the table after a moment of frustration-- quickly turning away to pout. Alphonse still looked a little bit annoyed with the situation; and a little tired as well, but mostly passive.

After another moment’s glance at the advertisement, though, Alphonse’s eyes widened a hitch.

“Ed, look.” Pointing at the top of the advertisement, there sat in small letters, scattered along other details as to what this supposed fortune teller could do, “‘ _revival_ ’.”

Edward turned back towards the paper.

“‘Dante Ravenna’,” he whispered, “‘ _can bring back the dead’._ ”

“Apparently she can do alchemy, too. That’s what one of the reviews says.”

Fist pressing against his cheek, Edward stared at the article, running his fingers along the words as he read. After a moment, he squinted, blinking only when his stomach started rumbling again.

Leaning back in his chair, Ed lolled his head back. “--Y’know, she could just be a phony. Wouldn’t be the first time this happened. It could be a whole dramatic mockup, but it’s still weird as hell for a fortune teller to be doing alchemy _and_ bringing people back to life.”

“I mean, Ed,” Al started, “we know people can’t be brought back from the dead. Not really. If you’re right about the connection, it should probably be something we check out.”

Ed groaned.

“See, it even has an address,” voice softening, Al reached over the table and nudged the other boy, “we can scope it out. Maybe we should tell Ling about this, it’s his people.”

“He’s the fuckin’ _emperor_ , Alphonse.” Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Ed closed his eyes. “Ling has better things to do.”

“Well,” Al giggled, “he probably wants out of the palace more than anyone else. _You_ definitely want to spend more time with him _too_ , I’d wager.”

Ed sat up.

“I do _not--!_ ” Realizing it was his turn to be teased a little too late, Ed’s chair rocked and stuttered at the sudden movement, landing back square on its legs after a moment of flailing and hollering from the _gremlin_ tossed around in it. “He’s annoying, stupid, _smug_ \--”

“He’s your _friend_ \--”

“Your.. food is here, sirs.” 

Almost in sync, the brothers’ heads turned to the server, a notably different one than before. Go figure that the person assigned to them would get annoyed or decide they couldn’t handle the two that quickly.

And even the food couldn’t save Ed’s ego now, the eyes of the patrons back on them, and Alphonse laughing at his expense.

That had marked the moment Edward wished he didn’t visit Xing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on the weekend every week or two!!!
> 
> hmu on tumblr or twitter @elriccore!!! i'd love to see fanart or get asked questions abt my fics <3!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> ch. 2 fun facts -
> 
> \- "dante ravenna" is a reference to dante alighieri's tomb, who fma '03 dante is based off of (that's a lot of dantes in one sentence!!!!!)  
> \- mrs. pān is a cooking/food pun  
> \- literally everyone knows ed and ling are having a gay crisis except ed and ling  
> \- i don't have a set design for al yet but you can very much assume he looks like his cos counterpart similar 2 ed! hence the slightly darker hair that is Long  
> \- orange juice joke is based off of ed consistently drinking orange juice in brotherhood  
> \- the talk about aerugo is based on the wii games  
> \- i wouldn't be surprised if alphonse does sleep with a teddy lol  
> \- i was.. very rushed 2 write this chapter.. and it suffered for it....... i am so sorry gay people


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s pretty big game for a damn fortune teller to be doing all that she says she is.” Ed closed the newspaper, folding it back up and tossing it to the side before worming to stand. “Even if she ain’t, she’s still a suspect in the murder cases. It’s a little bit weird that your officials haven’t caught onto her yet.”

“So, you’re saying a few recent deaths are linked to a _fortune teller?_ ”

Sighing with a shake of his head, Ed’s legs absentmindedly kicked as he sat on Ling’s desk. The newspaper was opened wide inbetween the Emperor (who looked very much confused, not hanging onto any word of Alphonse’s explanation) and his brother, pages wrinkled from the wind and the walk from the café. 

“ _Ed_ thinks it is,” Al snorted, “I’ll admit it is a bit weird. I’m mostly concerned about the ‘dead coming back to life’ thing.”

Edward’s lips quirked downwards. If Al was trying to make some kind of zombie joke, it didn’t come off funny. His gut was really bothering him about this one. Maybe he really did just want to get back into doing meaningful things for once, though. It'd been a hot minute.

Not to mention, if the dead really _were_ coming back to life..

“It’s pretty big game for a damn _fortune teller_ to be doing all that she says she is.” Ed closed the newspaper, folding it back up and tossing it to the side before worming to stand. “Even if she ain’t, she’s still a suspect in the murder cases. It’s a little bit weird that _your_ officials haven’t caught onto her yet.”

Ling’s brows furrowed as his head turned to Ed. The creases under his eyes and over his brows crinkled, and Edward found himself extremely close to making a joke about them. It might’ve come off as condescending, though, and he decided against it, raising his brows and forcing a small smile onto his face.

After a moment of ardent eye contact, Ling’s expression softened with a huff; almost as if he were giving into something.

“Well, you two know more about alchemy than _I_ do. You should go scope it out and see if something’s truly wrong.”

“Hey now, it’s your people,” Ed snickered, “you aren’t getting off the hook _that_ easy, Prince-y.”

“ _Emperor,_ ” Ling corrected, _tiredly,_ “I could _still_ count that as treason if I was so determined to, you know.”

Fawning fake shock, Ed placed a hand to his chest. “Oh, you _wouldn’t._ You _lo-ove_ me.”

For a moment, Ling’s eyes had fluttered open, betraying the drowsiness tempting his senses.

With a larger uptick of the corners of his mouth, Ling quickly turned his head, crossing his arms as Ed carefully placed his hands in his garment pockets. Off to the side, Alphonse cleared his throat into his fist; both of them opting out of noticing the slight burning darkness added to, again, _the Emperor’s--_ cheeks.

“I.. need to stretch my legs anyways,” he muttered, followed by a yawn, the _tiniest_ grin beginning to spread across his face, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I was gone an hour or two.”

“Great!” Ed clapped his hands, making Alphonse jolt near them. “There’s an address on the advertisement. We’ll go there-- _tonight!_ ”

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking,” Al piped up, “how in the world are we going to even get Ling out of here? His court tries to follow him around everywhere.”

“We can have Lan Fan and May cover for me!” Ling shrugged, eyes notably shut and expression lighter. “I used to do this a lot when I was just a wee princeling. I am _very_ skilled in the art of.. _sneaking,_ you might say.” 

Alphonse’s eyebrow cocked.

\--

Ling’s idea of “sneaking” and “fitting in” was funny, but not that unexpected, Edward decided.

Naturally, to look normal, Ling had pinned his hair up-- almost similar to how Lieutenant Hawkeye had worn hers. His clothes were familiarly loose, but not that different from how Ed and Al dressed, something Ed could finally reminisce in. 

Most notably, Ling had kept his _eyes_ open. Ed figured the reason they had been closed the lot of the time was because he could simply get around using the Dragon’s Pulse, or whatever the hell. Probably served him better and helped him focus on the things around him. At the end of the day, he looked only vaguely similar to Ling in shape and sculpt, and Ed found that he was very, very, _very okay_ with it; even catching himself staring at Ling a few times for.. _no_ real reason.

Surprisingly enough, getting out of the palace wasn’t that difficult-- if not a little over the top. Ling had _insisted_ they climb out through the window, and while Ed was more adept with flexibility and sneaking around, Alphonse had not particularly practiced these skills as much since he’d reobtained his original body. Al eventually opted to alchemize a firefighter-esque escape pole to slide down, much to the earlier duo's boredom.

Sneaking past the palace grounds wasn’t that difficult either. Ling had apparently known a special way out, which the brothers hadn’t bothered questioning or calling the royal out on. Ed was sure that if he was some sort of higher-up, he’d probably make a whole lot of escape routes to actually live his damn life.

Which made Ed sympathetic for Ling, really. He looked too tired for comfort a little too often. He knew _very_ well that the poor man was a free spirit, and he really wondered if he was at the end of his rope-- or if he was simply putting up with this for a lot longer than he’d been equipped for.

That led to actually getting to the damned place. Cryptically enough, the address didn’t actually lead to a house. It led to a _lot_ , which probably had a place tucked _somewhere_ in the wood they were faced with, which just made it a matter of actually finding the place. Because of _course_ it couldn’t be straight forward.

“You know, a workplace in the woods seems quite dramatic,” Ling hummed, “ _how_ are we even going to know when we find it?”

“It’s probably to add to the fortune teller show dramatics, all of ‘em do shit like that,” Ed snorted, carelessly waving a gloved hand around in the air, “it’ll probably be a trailer or something, especially if she’s running advertisements. Could be on a bigger scale, though. Cornello had a whole fuckin’ city cult following him.”

Alphonse nodded. 

After a while, Ed noted, it was taking a _long_ _fucking while_ to get there. Either that, or he was bored. Maybe even simply lost. Ling seemed to be thinking the same with the way he dragged along, but to be fair, that could’ve also been the tiredness from before getting to him. Alphonse, however, bounded on his merry way.

The forest had progressively been getting darker. It was dusk now, and the blue-ish green hues of the trees and grass were starting to get tinted and darker. The spaces inbetween the towering vegetation seemed to be almost black by now, stray fireflies lighting up the gaps and landing on some nearby stumps and flowers on the way. 

_At least,_ Ed thought, _there was a clearing._ There had been this whole way, just perfectly people-sized (it could fit a _family_ , Ed’s brain unhelpfully provided) and moved away, to the sides, so people could navigate it. That had to have meant that they were on the right path, right? Not just on some random accidental hiking trail?

And after a while, light finally began seeping through the cracks.

“Oh my _god,_ finally.”

And Ed wasn’t sure who said that. Him, or one of the two men trailing him.

\--

Edward hadn’t been expecting a lot of things today, including a manor that they almost _should_ have seen above the land they were traversing. It was almost a little worrying just how _well-hidden_ this place was. Was this the right place? Did this ‘Dante’ even get _any_ clients? Maybe the murders just were unrelated, and they could go home--

His brows furrowed at the soft, harmonious sound of gritty music wafting through the doors and windows; muffled and quiet compared to the brash clicking of the insects nearby. The yellow-ish orange light shone through the large windows marking every side of the polished marble walls, towering just like the two-story did the boys. He could hear every soft _pop_ of what was most likely a phonogram, _obviously_ the source of the melancholic music as well.

And despite everything, _despite_ the light seeping through the windows, Edward couldn’t see anything inside. Just that blinding, yellow light, like there had been something to hide in there. 

His gut had begun to churn. Once again. And he didn’t notice his hand-- now fisted-- lingering above the large, oak wooden doors before it unconsciously began to tap and _rap._

After Ed lowered his hand, Alphonse cleared his throat.

“Don’t you think it’s a little odd for a fortune teller to be owning a manor?” He laughed out, a confused lilt to his voice. “Like Ed said, I don’t think every person working a job like this earns much, unless, you know--”

“They’re royalty,” Ling passed off-- dismissively, “they don’t sound Xingese by name. They’re probably from somewhere near Amestris, like you.”

Alphonse nodded and gestured with his hand, soon after raising it to tussle his ponytail. Ed sighed, rolling his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets and beginning to rock on his heels.

And they waited.

And _waited_.

A few more beats passed, and Ed whipped around, ponytail snapping with it. With a lazy back-hand wave, he began striding away, head lowered with a slight feeling of disappointment.

“Y’know, I don’t think there’s anyone home. Let’s go, A--”

They no longer had to wait, the large doors creaking open wide behind them, Ed’s eyes blinking flutterly at the ground as the ground was suddenly _obliterated_ and _littered_ with a bright, golden ray of light, head quickly turning to face what looked to be a girl around their age-- no older than her late-twenties.

Al, who had turned to follow Ed too, had completely moved his body to look-- and Ling, who had seemed to have spaced out up until that moment, raised his nodding-off-head to stare with wide eyes.

And the woman looked _ecstatic._ Almost violet-tinted black hair ( _short, like a bob,_ Ed noted) bobbed as her whole body jolted upwards, a velvety red and white button-up dress that was _notably_ hugging her hips folding and curling in on itself at any quick movement.

A loose pendant around the lady’s neck jingled that had reflected the molten gold dancing out of hersown entryway, dull yet _bright_ and _red_.

Ed swallowed, and his companions seemed to react the same.

\--

“You’re a smaller group of customers than what I usually rope in,” the lady hummed, pouring three cups of steaming tea from a floral china set, “a lot of families come to me for guidance. You’ve probably seen the advertisement in the newspaper-- I presume you’re here for the same.”

“Naw, we’re just here for a few questions,” Ed sneered, legs spread wide on the velvet couch opened for the trio, “we won’t take too much of your time.”

Edward could almost feel the way his brother’s eyes rolled beside him, Al’s arms crossed and a leg draped over the other. His mother should have practically been thrashing in her grave, but the blonde.. couldn’t shrug off how _odd_ this woman felt to him. Almost familiar, almost like he should’ve stayed far away, and-- he couldn’t even articulate it. He just _couldn’t._

Alphonse, specifically, occupied himself with eyeing the pendant around her.

The music from before had gotten unbearable the moment they entered. It repeated, over and over, the same gravelly and sad female chorus from before, almost feeling slightly ominous given the situation. Comforting, in a way, but he didn’t have any clue how long he could listen to it.

The woman before them-- her brows arched, lids lowering in an almost disappointed way. _Disgusted,_ Ed considered as she put her teapot down on the lavish coffee-table set out in front.

“I have some questions for you as well,” she muttered gracefully, but with a _hint_ of displeasure, “I’m Dante.”

Reaching her hand out, she specifically aimed for the brothers, shooting Ling (who was _so_ close to sleep, and Ed mentally reminded himself to get food in him soon) an awed look. Alphonse shook her hand eagerly, and Ed, with a slight bit of hesitance, did the same; causing _Dante_ to smile. 

God, he felt like he was going to get eaten up.

“Now,” she started, rushing to carefully sit on her responding-- _exactly similar_ \-- sofa, “you start. What are you here to know?”

“Those murders,” Ed said, _loudly--_ cutting off Alphonse as he opened his mouth, “y’know they’re connected to your _customers,_ right? _All_ of them.”

“What happens to my clientele is beyond me,” Dante muttered, raising a colder cup of tea on her end to her lips and tilting it backwards, “I have no personal relationship with them. It is an unfortunate coincidence, and I have sent my condolences to their families.”

Edward’s lips quirked downwards, and his brows lowered. Alphonse shifted to sit up, hands folding in on each other in his lap as he moved. Ling, off to the side, watched the older alchemist with a half-fuzzy gaze-- soon turning it to the woman in front of them.

_There weren’t even any families to send condolences to._

“It’s my turn.” Lowering her cup, the fortune teller’s face shifted-- into something just a _little_ more serious. “Are you related to a man named _Van Hohenheim?_ ”

_What?_

“He’s our father, ma’am,” Alphonse stuttered, “--you _know_ him?”

Her expression seemed to soften, and ways away, Ed’s eyes widened a hitch. Lips slightly parted, he quickly snapped his jaw shut. How the _hell_ would this woman know him? He was supposed to be setting things up for the Promised Day, the fucking _audacity--_

“An old friend of mine,” she chuckled, “his golden hair, _eyes--_ they’re terribly recognizable. You look a little ways off, dear, probably more similar to your mother-- but your brother over there is practically a carbon copy of the man.”

Alphonse swallowed, an anxious smile cursing him as he attempted to ignore the _hilarious_ way that Ed simply seemed most akin to a _pissed off_ fish at the moment.

“You boys aren’t the most subtle, either. The dozy one over there?” She gestured to Ling, raising her cup to her lips once again. “That’s the Emperor, isn’t it?”

Thrashing upwards with a gasp, Ling’s eyes shot wide open, hands roughly grabbing at the nearest armrest. After a few moments of catching his breath, he ran a hand down his face; swallowing and sighing as he looked towards the lighter blonde beside him.

Dishing out a concerned look, Ed propped a gentle hand on the former prince’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring stroke as Ling raised a hand to show that-- _he was,_ in fact, _all right._

“I’d take that as a yes.” Dante snorted. “Fortune tellers are almost psychic in a way; we _know_ all. Sadly, there are some things I don’t know. How’s your father?”

“ _Dead,_ ” Ed coughed out, and _bloody hell_ did he want out of here right about now-- “has been for _four_ years. Anything else, or are we _done_?”

There was a pause, and Ed ignored the blatant way the people around him blinked, Ling easing back into being the slightest bit loopy. Removing his hand from Ling’s shoulder (which caused the emperor to flail a bit before he sat up straight), he hurriedly stood up, chest heaving and face red as he downed the rest of the contents of his cup.

The music pounded in his ears.

“..Yes, we might as well be.” Voice flat, Dante placed her cup on her plate. “I see. My condolences.”

Gritting his teeth, Ed dropped his cup back onto his plate, tugging at Al’s nearest dress shirt sleeve before beginning to storm off.

“C’mon, Al. We’re _leaving_.”

“Ed--” 

“ _Alphonse!_ ”

Turning around as he continued to walk, he didn’t stop his mad pace out of the manor in any way; quickly turning around after his exclamation. Pushing himself upwards, Ling stumbled-- Alphonse sighed, and Dante’s brows arched once more.

“He’s a fiery one, isn’t he?”

\--

“What was _that_ for? Ed!”

Fists balled at his sides, Ed tried _so_ damn hard to ignore the way the night sky _loomed_ overhead, the way the lights of the manor _still_ danced and lingered in his eyes, the way the music could _still be heard_ for even as far as he’d walked, and felt even louder than it had been inside. 

And he stopped, Alphonse catching up to him and fawning over him as he skimmed a hand down his face, Ling carelessly stepping up behind them.

“What’s wrong? You don’t usually--”

“Listen. Something’s wrong with that _lady--_ ”

“ _Ed--_ ”

“She’s either a _fraud,_ Al, _or_ there’s something _wrong_! People don’t just die like that so-- _so_ _coincidentally_!”

A few moments passed, Al not faltering as Ed’s voice emptily echoed through the woods. Ling eventually padded up to place a hand on Edward’s shoulder, the latter’s head turning up and to him with a slightly perturbed expression.

“..Listen. Listen, it’s fine. I think there’s something weird going on too. We’ll scope it out tomorrow, alright?” Sighing quietly, Alphonse straightened out his shirt. “I have a meeting with Jerso and Zampano, though. You and Ling can interview one of the families or something. Let’s just go home, okay?”

Shoulders lowering, Ed exhaled through his mouth. After a few moments of lowering his eyelids so he wouldn’t see _gold,_ he nodded, unconsciously leaning into the hand offered to his shoulder by the man beside him.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“We’ll check it out tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> ch. 3 ultra cool super fun facts -
> 
> \- i listened to dante's theme the entirety of writing chapter 3 so i could properly express how fucking tired ed is of hearing that song (even tho it do be a banger!!!!)  
> \- today i give u gay shrimp between ed and ling.. tomorrow? Who Knows... (jk next weekend's chapter is going to have a lot of ed and ling shenanigans it's ok)  
> \- no one:  
> ed: im a conspiracy theorist now  
> \- ed and ling have had No Time to cope with hohenheim and greed & fu's deaths respectively  
> \- ling has hypoglycemia and that has something to do with him being sleepy Very Consistently besides sleep deprivation  
> \- the tea they drink in dante's manor is oolong tea. ed likes honey in his tea


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And in that moment, Hell froze over."

It was a new day.

The sun was beaming down, sky as blue as could possibly be. There wasn’t a single imperfection in the overhead atmosphere, a soft gradient of a lighter blue to a darker hue dancing along the rays that led to the bright star looming above them. The streets were full as they trotted along-- loud conversations and music deafening their ears as much as humanly possible. Birds were _singing,_ and--

“Can you stop fuckin’ _hogging_ all of the duck?”

\--Ling was being a nuisance. 

Dark hand burrowed deeply into a paper bag that Ed held, Ling’s fingers scavenged around to pop another crispy, dark red piece of duck into his mouth. He paid no attention to the annoyed blonde beside him, who glowered as his palm rested on the greasy bottom of the bag. Edward’s gloves were probably going to be dirtier than normal, though he could likely deal with it. He’d been through worse.

“Mmh,” Ling hummed, voice muffled, “it’s _delicious_. I can’t help myself.”

Brows arching, Ed snorted. Swapping his grasp on the bag, the Emperor made an offended little noise-- the earlier laughing at the betrayed response. Ed carelessly popped a piece of the meat into his mouth, giving himself a moment to chew before giving a pleased nod.

“Tastes alright. It’d probably taste better if I didn’t see you talkin’ with your mouth full.”

Ling hadn’t dressed up much different than the night before. His clothes were notably changed, given he wasn’t a _heathen,_ but his hair was done up the same way and his attire was exceptionally baggy. At first glance, it still wasn’t quite possible to tell that it was the damned Emperor.

Placing a hand over his heart in mock offense, the royal swallowed down the last bite of duck he’d stuffed himself with. He opened his mouth to speak, being cut off by the sound of more rustling paper as Ed began shuffling through his pockets; shortly after whipping out a tiny little list.

“Anywho. Who’d you say we’re goin’ for? _Hampton?_ ”

“Exactly. They shouldn’t be far from here,” Ling droned, pressing a finger to his lower lip and gently wiping a drop off sauce off, “the Hamptons lived in a little cottage right in the suburbs. Married ten years ago-- the wife got a job in plumbing a while after her daughter was born. From what I can tell, the daughter’s still alive. She was staying with her aunt for a week or so while her family had apparently been doing something.”

“You think ‘ _something_ ’ could be related to Dante?”

“That’s my best guess, Ed.” Shaking his head, Ling scratched at his scalp. “Turns out the wife died not so long after getting the plumbing job-- something about lockjaw. The husband was distraught, never remarried. His brothers offered to stay with him for a while until they got back on their feet, and just a week ago, they were all killed in their own home.”

Edward furrowed his brows. Cradling the paper bag in his right arm, he gently bit down on his lip, trying to make _any_ sense out of this shitshow. He’d done something eerily similar to this when he was in his younger military days-- but Mustang’s people usually focused more on these cases than Ed himself.

“How were they even _killed_ ? Shouldn’t there be a sign of someone being _there_? At all?”

“Alphonse said that they were apparently asphyxiated, judging by how the blood flowed. Thing is that there weren’t any strangulation marks-- but get _this--_ they were oddly _damp._ ” Ed’s brows rose again, a confused grimace marring his features. “It’s like they all drowned, somehow. And if there were someone breaking in, there wasn’t any sign of forced entry, so they had to have been let in willingly.”

_The fuck?_

“That doesn’t make a damn _nick_ of sense--” Ed muttered, just an ounce breathless, “--my best bet was that it’d be an _assassin,_ but what the hell, man--?”

“I don’t even get why they _would_ be assassinated, if at all,” the latter sighed, “they moved here from Amestris _four_ years ago-- back when a lot of people had been migrating out since Bradley’s reign dissipated. Their track record is entirely clean. Their daughter was born not soon after.”

“That explains the surname, then.” The alchemist sneered. “Guess if they only died just a week ago, that aunt has to be packing up for them.”

“On the dot. I thought they’d be best given someone close to them was in town, and you can at least understand what they’re saying. It’s not much, but it’s an easy start.”

“Alright,” Ed huffed, folding the list from before back into his pocket, “we’ll check them out.”

\--

Edward was, needless to say, _surprised_ that the door swung open almost immediately after the first four knocks.

The house itself wasn’t much. Given it was in the suburbs of the capital, there were other houses scattered around-- neatly trimmed grass and perfect sidewalks blessing his eyes. The roof was made of what looked like clay shingles, the outside walls lined with cream and white. The house itself looked a little droopy, the cream walls darkened by an ounce of neglect. Toys and things of the sort were scattered all around the yard, an obnoxious floral windchime abusing the boys’ senses.

A woman had answered the door. Mousy brunette hair was sticking up at every angle, slightly greasy from sweat and work. The house behind them was coated door to door with boxes, assorted toys and an overall depressing atmosphere. The walls were a colourless gray, the floor a cheap, dusty wood. _Something_ about it made Ed’s stomach flip.

The lady in front of them looked terribly tired. Shadows weighed down her gray eyes, and a soaked dress shirt and pencil skirt made the Amestrian sympathetic. She looked like she’d been kicked into overdrive, and Ed really wished they could do something about that.

With Ling standing by his side, Ed’s lips pursed, and he could feel his shoulders tighten into position when the woman made eye contact with him. In what seemed like a quick moment, her face distorted into confusion, arm that swung the door open still gently resting on its accursed knob.

“..Uh-- come in.”

\--

The tension was nearly palpable every time Ed took a step. He could feel the crunch of grains of dirt and dust under his shoes with every step, Ling’s feet creaking behind him. He could feel the towering gaze of the Emperor resting on the back of his head as his ponytail swung from side to side with every motion-- finally ceasing as he sat down on a plastic-covered couch.

He felt so out of place sitting on this couch. So small. And as his mind began to wander, he wondered if--

“So, what are you boys here for? I’m Tina, by the way. Nice to meet you two.”

The duo snapped to attention. Ed’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight, carefully shaking the hand quickly extended to him. Ling’s gaze darted to the opposing woman-- his demeanor had shifted entirely, brows lowered; tense yet relaxed at the same time. Edward himself couldn’t put his finger on _how--_

“We’re here to offer our condolences to your family,” Ling cleared his throat, “we have a few questions about your brother-in-law. The blonde’s Edward, and I’m Lee.”

Ed blinked, and the stranger’s brows raised.

“Just.. be quiet about it, you two. Mila is in the next room, his _daughter--_ and she doesn’t know about--”

“Who'rethese guys?”

Jolting, Tina recoiled at the sound of the tiny little voice behind her-- fists curling as he retracted her hand from Ed’s. Straining behind the couch to get a look at the child, the older Elric’s brows raised at the sight of a brown-haired girl. Her eyes were a light teal, a tiny nose darkened by what was probably a cold given how _stuffy_ she sounded. Her hair was long-- tucked back into a neat braid, blue overalls a little too big for her loosely draped around what looked like a striped shirt. 

His lips pursed.

“Go play with your bunny, Mila. These nice boys are asking about your Daddy, that’s all.” Through gritted teeth, Tina sighed, Edward’s fingers shuffling in his lap. After a moment, Ed sat up, giving Ling a pat on the back.

“Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to my _buddy_ here for a moment, alright?” He guffawed, a bright grin stretching impossibly wide across his face. “He’ll ask you all he wants to know. I’ll take the kid off your hands for a few moments."

Shoulders drooping, the lass gave Ed a skeptical look-- just a moment before her lips quirked downwards in submission. Turning around, Mila stood in the doorway-- a white plush dropped at her side. The bunny had been slightly tinted brown, most likely from the prior offending dirt and dust littering the damned place. 

“Alright, Mila. Mister Edward here is going to keep you company for a little while, okay? If you need me, I’ll be out here talking to Lee. Be _nice_.”

\--

“So, your name’s _Mila_ , huh?”

Picking up a stray toy off of the floor, Ed gently knelt down on his knees as he examined it between his fingers. The girl trailing him had wandered off further into her room, pink walls more hollow and empty compared to any child’s room he’d ever seen. She carelessly began lifting out plastic cups and tea spouts from a wooden toybox, dropping them onto a nearby table that seemed _way_ too small for anyone normally.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a nice name. I used to know a kid really similar to you, actually.”

Tossing her plush bunny into one of three pink flowery seats, Mila began sorting the cups and tea spout on the table before her. Everything in this room felt so _dull_ to Ed. The pink wasn’t even a hot or pastel pink-- it was washed out and dullen. It barely even felt like a room fitting for Winry when she was younger.

Needless to say, though, she simply ignored Edward.

“Almost had her hair done the same way you did. Real similar name, too. Kinda like a little sister to me, but then a few things happened.” Ed hummed, standing up and placing the windup toy on a drawer nearby. “I was kind of in the same boat you are.”

Ed’s eyes darted around the room. A cheap wiry bed was placed off in the corner, no lights or anything of the sort nearby. It was _too_ dark in that corner, despite the pale white light being shed into the room by the large window by the tea-table. White puffy curtains were pulled to the sides of the window, a little kitchen playset backed to the right wall of the soon-to-be-tea party. The toy chest was right beside the bed in place of a nightstand, the dressing drawer a few inches away from the door-- making it not quite parallel to the window.

“I lost my old man when I was real young too,” Ed snickered, “your aunt seems to say that you don’t know that he’s gone yet, but kids pick up on a lot more things than adults let on, right?”

Eyes not averting from the table, Mila gently straightened her bunny up on her chair-- carefully draping its ears over the back of the headrest. She soon turned her head up towards Ed, staring up at him for a few moments, looking as if she were analyzing the awkward smile on his face.

After a few moments, she padded over, gently tugging on his hand and leading him over to the table. The child soon sat him down in the chair nearest to the window, the alchemist blinking as he stared down at the dusty cup in front of him. After pacing a few more steps to her own chair, Mila sat on the third chair smack in the middle of her plush-- _and_ Edward.

“I guess you’re not much of a talker, huh?” He muttered. “Yeah, that’s alright. I never used to be big on talkin’ either. After my Dad vanished and my Mom passed on, I really only spoke to my little brother.”

The youngster lifted the teaspout, pouring an invisible liquid into Ed’s cup. With a grateful nod, he lifted the not-any-heavier china off his saucer.

“You don’t seem like you have any siblings,” lowering his cup back onto its plate, his gaze shifted to Mila again, leg bouncing-- “just you and that Tina lady.”

She paused.

“You don’t gotta talk about it, but if you know what happened to your family, me and my friend would really like to know. We’re trying to stop whoever did this.”

And then she _stilled._

After a few moments of silence, Mila stared down at her cup, fidgeting with her fingers. Ed’s smile dropped a few pegs, slightly more soft and sympathetic than anything else. Quietly, he sat up, the rubbery pink chair legs of his seat scratching as it was pulled back. Carefully making sure to push it in, he cast a wistful glance down at the child before him-- before bending down to her height and tussling up her hair.

“Thanks for the tea party, kiddo.”

Returning to his full height with a little groan and a stretch-- Ed made a few paces forward before he heard the quick dragging of a chair, some scuttling, and a tiny hand grabbing at his sleeve.

Turning his head downwards to stare at the tiny mop below him, Ed’s eyebrows arched once again as his expression distorted into one of slight dazement. Mila’s head was tilted downwards at the floor, and he soon just _barely_ made out quiet mumbling. Lowering back to crouch again, he rested his free hand over the tiny grip on his shirt, a relaxed grin heightening his lips.

“Hey, you gotta talk louder, little buddy. I can’t hear you when you’re whispering like that.”

“Dad said he was going to bring Mommy back,” she muttered, “he said he found a way.”

Edward’s face fell.

“‘ _Found a way_ ’?” He repeated, voice breathless and quiet. “What’s that mean?”

Silence.

“ _Kid,_ what does that _mean--?_ ”

Head tilting upwards, Mila’s eyes watered. Her mouth opened and then shut-- a quiet, sputtering noise leaving her mouth. After a moment, she seemed to finally will herself to speak, taking a deep breath inwards.

And in that moment, Hell froze over.

“ _Mommy killed Daddy._ ”

\--

“I _can’t_ wrap my head around-- around _this--_ ”

Ed and Ling had left the place in a storm. Ling came into the room barely a moment after the tension in the room became too much to handle, a calm face shifting into a worried one at the most petrified look on Ed’s face he’d ever _seen._ MIla had managed to suppress her tears in the moment, Edward somehow steeling himself to say goodbye enough to the point he immediately _reeled_ the moment they were out of earshot.

“Her Mom’s _dead!_ She wasn’t even _there_ at the time, I don’t get how this all connects to--”

“That’s the thing,” Ling muttered, “it turns out that Tina was the person to find the family. They _did_ visit Dante, and she apparently _did_ bring Mr. Hampton’s wife back to life. They wouldn’t stop talking about it. She came with MIla to see for herself, and-- they were gone.”

Ed took a deep breath in. His hands made their home buried in his hair, and he _swore_ he was _so close_ to tearing his damned scalp out. Golden eyes squeezed shut, tan lips twisted themselves in a scowl, his chest was _heaving,_ and _fuck--_

“You _can’t_ bring the _dead_ back to life! What’s dead should _stay_ dead!”

After a few moments of potent silence, Ed’s breath managed to catch up to him-- hands untangling themselves from his hair. They dropped loosely to his sides, and Ling’s lips pursed, looking ahead of them at the now _empty_ street.

“I don’t even think she was paying them to lie, Ed.” Face softening and twisting into something sympathetic, Ed’s face sagged as he stared at the pavement. “I don’t think someone would come out about their family’s murders if they were paid to give Dante a good reputation.”

“ _Shit._ ”

“I don’t think you were wrong. Murders like this don’t just line up, lest we both agree that she was acting off last night.”

“ _Fantastic._ So we’ve got a murderous fortune teller on our asses?” Groaning, Ed tossed his head back, hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, he straightened himself up, eyes landing back on his companion.

“That’s what it looks like.”

Clapping Ling on the back, Ed forced a small smile onto his face-- one laced with a small hint of sarcasm, but one bouncing back up with the confidence the alchemist usually radiated.

“Sounds wonderful! I’m gonna check your throne for hex bags when we get back.” Ed snorted, cheeks tinting the slightest bit red as Ling began to _giggle._

Blinking flitterly, Edward swallowed, eyes squinting shut as he beamed at the Emperor. He suddenly felt himself get tugged to his side, letting out a quiet squawk of protest at the tight grip. Opening his eyes once again, Edward’s face practically _radiated_ with heat; Ling’s eyes wide open and gleeful.

And for some reason that Edward couldn’t discern, Ling looked worryingly cute in that moment.

\--

The sky hadn’t darkened much longer after they arrived back at the palace. Ed sat atop Ling’s desk once again, legs swinging back and forth with his hands to his sides. Ling sat in a towering mahogany chair behind the desk, posture straight and careful. Lan Fan stood guard by the door, Alphonse and May standing to the left of the group.

“I don’t have the damndest clue how this kid’s _mom_ could’ve come back from the dead and killed her old man,” Ed whispered, “but at least we know I wasn’t fucking _insane_ now.”

Al rolled his eyes, opting to ignore the accusatory tone of voice clearly aimed at his skepticism. After a moment, he sighed, hands resting on the desk as he leant over. May’s arms were crossed, out of her qipao and into something more relaxing to move around in-- a black and white onesie that stretched beyond her feet and hands.

“I never said you _were,_ brother,” Al grumbled, “I just didn’t have a reasonable explanation. And I still don’t.”

Raising a hand from behind, everyone’s gazes turned to Ling-- who quickly stood up, pushing his chair in and placing his hands to his hips.

“None of us know what’s going on, but there _is_ something lurking here. Ed, Al, I’ll give you access to the citizens’ records tomorrow. You two can dig up all you possibly can on Dante.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’re all dismissed now. Except Ed-- Ed, you stay for a moment.”

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Al let the corners of his lips quirk upwards; quickly straightening himself and beaming. His hands now rested firmly in his pockets, rustled hair shining in the dim light of the office. After a pause, he waltzed out, May silently in tow.

Blinking as if being roused out of a dream, Edward hopped off the desk, ponytail and antenna bouncing as his body caught up to him. After turning his gaze to Ling, he paused, watching the serious expression painted onto his face dissolve into something more _familiar._

“Did you _actually_ check the throne for hex bags, perchance?”

Edward grinned, and Lan Fan rolled her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> chapter 4 Fun Factz -
> 
> \- hampton means water, tina means river, mila means dear  
> \- Ed Is Goign Fucking Insane Hes At His Limit (just kidding hes fine for now)  
> \- it'll click soon i swear  
> \- WE'RE HERE FUCK YEA!!!!!!! THE PLOT BEGINS!!!!!!! it hits real hard next chapter but i think this is the actual no-going-back point for these dumbos. shit hasnt hit the fan quite yet surprisingly  
> \- roy in the next chapter!!!!!!!! kind of!!!!!  
> \- the supernatural references and inspo in this story are fuckign awful  
> \- adhd ed adhd ed adhd ed  
> \- mila and tina will be brought up again but they are absolutely not major characters or anything. i bullshitted them on the spot  
> \- my birthday is on the 24th!!!!!!! two days!!!!!!! hell yea!!!!!! happy 19th to me :]


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ve already been through the entire goddamn “D” section,” he grumbled, “I’m just starting to think everything about this lady is made up.” 

It felt like they’d been looking through these damned files for _hours_ now. The room was covered from corner-to-corner with papers and folders-- opened, sprawled about, and unorganized. It’d be a pain to clean up afterwards-- which Ed was sure they would have to do-- and _besides_ the mess, he was getting frustrated.

The room was casted a pleasant darkish cherry oak brown made by the drawers lining the walls, silver handles not-quite-in-the-middle but not quite at the top. Two specific drawers had been opened, all of which labelled by letters-- “D”, and “ _R_ _”_.

Multiple folders had gone missing in large, yellow files slightly more browned and crinkled than the others, most likely caused by age. Four oaken desks matching the drawers sat smack in the middle, two beside each other-- and two touching the ones in front, but directly across, mimicking the others. Two of them, polar opposite each other, were _covered_ in folders and papers-- their respective seats hosting Alphonse and Edward. The latter being stressed, gripping at his bangs and nibbling on a pen with great force.

Groaning, Ed leant back in his chair. Probably too much for comfort, judging by how Alphonse’s eyes widened and head lifted.

“I can’t find _shit--_ ” 

“Calm down, brother. I’m sure we’ll find something eventually.”

After a few more moments of Ed’s fingers carding through his bangs, he sighed-- pen dangling between his lips-- having retracted his hand and moved to sit his chair back up correctly. He hovered over his desk, fist against his cheek-- staring down at a lone open file set off to the side. Tan lips quirked downwards, hand gently reaching to pull out his pen-- beginning to carelessly click it repetitively one it was free.

“We’ve already been through the entire goddamn “D” section,” he grumbled, “I’m just starting to think everything about this lady is made up.” 

“That wouldn’t be surprising,” Al remarked, voice monotone-- “she’s a fortune teller, after all. It could be an alias.”

Dropping his pen back on the desk and rolling his eyes, Ed lifted his hand from his face, beginning to carefully fork through his papers and resuming skimming once more. Laughing hollowly, he raised his brows.

“Maybe she’s an illegal alien.”

Al hummed.

Blinking, Ed’s lips pursed-- slowly opening as he thought. He quickly closed the cover of the file he’d been reading, running a hand over his ponytail with gusto. Quickly, that same hand moved to rest underneath his nose, brows furrowing as he pondered.

“Y’know-- she’s an alchemist too, right? Bringing people back to life n' stuff? Or at least _trying_?” At the question, Al looked back up. “She knows Amestrian-- think she could’ve been from Amestris? S’not like our country _wasn’t_ a landlocked hellhole a few years back.”

“If.. she’s Amestrian, that might make this a whole lot more difficult. This really might just be an over exaggeration, brother.” Al muttered, laughing lightly as Ed returned to nipping at his pen.

“It isn’t, I can _feel_ it.” Lips quirking upwards, Ed tapped his index finger on the desk. “Say, how do you think the Colonel found us?”

“Mm.. he’s a General now, Ed,” Alphonse snorted, “he wouldn’t be happy knowing you’re still calling him _‘Colonel’._ ”

“Ah, he wouldn’t care. It’s better than calling him a _fuckwad._ ” Ed sneered. “Listen, if he knew about us, kids in a backwater country village being _alchemists_ , d’ya think he’d know about someone named _Dante_?”

“That.. could be plausible,” Al’s brows arched once more, “he might’ve kept a list, or something.”

Ed lit up, pointing and _grinning_. “ _Exactly._ I think we should give Mustang a call.”

\--The door slammed open.

Eyes widening, Ed bit down on his pen _too_ hard at the startlement-- plastic shattering under his teeth, ink flying and splattering onto his cheek and a few papers below him. Quickly making sure to spit out the vile black liquid in his mouth, Ed coughed, pen falling from his lips and clacking onto the table. Swearing, Al snickered in response, turning to the door without much of a care to his brother’s troubles. 

And once again, to Ed’s inconvenience-- it was Ling, cheerfully chirping as he spoke: “Any progress?”

The brothers paused, the room silent. Ed was struggling to scrub a blot of ink off of his vest, brows lowered and pressed together-- gaze sharp as he looked up towards the invading Emperor. Ling _giggled,_ how _dare_ he-- and Ed scowled. Al seemed to be suppressing laughter, but was doing a very good job at it-- hand pressed to his mouth as he watched the struggle.

“.. _Yeah._ ” And hot _damn_ if the sarcasm hadn’t been obvious.

Ling grinned-- flashing that _sardonic_ smile-- clapping his hands cheerfully as he stood in the doorway. Lan Fan had been trailing behind him, looking about as fed up as Edward was. Ling, obviously, was either oblivious to both gazes penetrating and burning holes through his back or knew and simply just found it too funny to care. And it was probably the latter situation.

“Great! I _really_ hope you two get done soon, a few new members of my council are going to be scoping around in here tonight-- showing them the ropes and all, but they seemed enthusiastic about this place in particular.” Beaming, Ling strode over to the brothers’ desks, hands clasped at his chest as he stood. “I was hoping we could talk about your progress over dinner, Edward.”

Ed _sputtered._ After a few moments of widened eyes and an awkwardly open mouth, Ed _snorted--_ grinning gracelessly as he crossed his arms over his desk, gaze fixated on the Emperor before him.

What the _fuck._

“Dinner? With _me_? Don’t you want Al there, too--?” Ah, shit. Smooth.

“Of course!” Ling raised his brows, laughing at Ed’s absolutely _beet red_ face-- which the alchemist himself didn’t even _seem_ to notice, despite how it must’ve been burning. “Did you think I was excluding Alphonse? It’d be best to hear from the both of you, afterall.”

Edward could feel his ego deflating. Again.

“I even plan on getting food from that café Al likes-- what’s her name-- Shi Pān--? Should be there today. Best not to stress the palace cooks while we’re _both_ here.”

Ed stuttered in place, laughing nervously in response. Face still flushed, he carefully nodded, lowering his head during one of the bobs to pinch at his nose. Alphonse, snickering, looked back down towards his papers-- continuing to sort through them.

“ _Whatever._ Ling, do you have a phone?”

\--

Ling had been quite forgiving after realizing that he’d been the reason Ed’s pen broke. He’d given him another one-- a thick, golden one that was _notably_ not even remotely similar to the pen he’d broken earlier. It was covered in carved ornate swirls and intricate floral designs-- Ling having rambled on about how amazing the quality of the ink was, especially for how much was in there. Ed tried to refuse, thinking it was some kind of _gift,_ but Ling had insisted, and-- he wasn’t arguing beyond that, really. He just thought it was over the top. He'd also managed to avoid having to clean the Citizens' Archive, which was a win-win.

Beyond _that_ , Ed was holding a brass phone receiver to his ear-- cradled between his shoulder and head as he balanced a cheap notepad in one hand-- golden pen with his left. The phone rang in his ear as he waited, having already spoken to the operator and reassuring her that it wasn’t some kind of emergency. 

It rang once more.

It rang again.

“ _General Mustang from Central Command speaking._ ”

“Hiya, Colonel.”

There was another pause over the phone, a grainy sigh passing through the line. Ed grinned largely, Alphonse leaning against the phone stand as he stood beside him, waiting patiently. The sound of writing was audible over the receiver, and the mood seemed to have shifted immediately.

“ _You know you can’t call me for friendly chats during work, Fullmetal,”_ Roy gritted out _, “I could get in trouble for that._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’ve done it before, who _cares--_ anyways _,_ I’m in Xing. Lookin’ into something. I’ve got a few questions I need you to answer-- I’ll make it quick, promise.”

There was another long string of silence over the line, Ed looking over towards Alphonse as he nudged the phone off of his shoulder-- handing it over for Alphonse to hold between them. 

“ _Is Alphonse there with you?_ ”

“Yeah, he can hear ya. I just handed the phone over to him. Say hi, Al.” Snorting, the alchemist tapped his pen to the notepad, waiting anxiously for a response.

“Hi, General!” Alphonse chirped, leaning into the phone a bit more to make sure it picked up.

There was _another_ sigh-- and Ed _swore_ he was going to lose his mind over this-- albeit it seemed more like a relieved one. Which really just made Ed huff himself, given _wow, okay,_ he wasn’t doing anything _horrible._ Not wrecking any buildings.

Yet.

“ _Alright. At least you aren’t getting into too much trouble, then."_ Ed scowled, resisting the urge to hang up the phone right then and there. _“What’s going on in Xing?_ ”

“I’m visiting Ling and Al. Nothing’s going on, just answer-- do you know an alchemist named _Dante_?”

The brothers continued to wait with baited breath, Ed’s foot beginning to slowly tap against the ground with every passing beat. If Mustang _knew_ about an alchemist by that name, then that surely confirmed that whatever this was wasn’t an overreaction, was an _issue--_ and was something they really couldn’t back out of investigating.

“ _Dante… Dante..”_ Mustang hummed, and Ed chewed his lip, Al fumbling with the phone in his hands. _“the Healer’s Alchemist?_ ”

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Ed muttered, quickly clicking his pen and beginning to write, “ _stupid-ass name,_ but--”

“ _What? What is it?_ ” The General’s voice heightened a peg, and Ed shook his head, continuing to scribble. “ _What have you boys gotten into_?”

Al glanced over towards Ed, brow cocked as the blonde stared at the paper. Ed’s lips were tightly pursed until they were white-- and he _breathed._

“ _Nothing_. Just a hunch. What can you tell me about Dante?”

“ _Why the sudden interest? What aren’t you telling me_?” Voice stern, Ed groaned, rolling his eyes and tussling his hair.

Al leant forward, masking his boredom with a pleading tone. “Please, General. It’s important.”

A few more ticks passed.

“ _I don’t know much about her, whatever you boys want to know. I think she was an old woman that got enlisted with the other State Alchemists that worked in Ishval,”_ Roy muttered, notably exasperated, _“she was close-knit with Doctor Marcoh. Got discharged because of a sickness or something-- I wasn’t close with her, but her codename came from some kind of healing alchemy, probably what you two would call Alkahestry.”_

Continuing to jot things down, Ed quickly blinked, looking up with newly widened eyes.

“ _I haven’t seen her since._ ”

“That doesn’t make _sense_ ,” Al whispered, leaning towards Ed, “Dante isn’t an old _lady,_ Ed. She looks thirty at the worst.”

Edward had stopped writing.

“What kind of sickness did she have? Was it fatal?” 

“ _She wouldn’t be discharged if it wasn’t,_ ” a clipped snort fizzled out over the line, “ _she got it around the time the summer epidemic that hit a few years back._ ”

Ed’s jaw snapped shut, lips folded into a straight line with great force. Golden eyes wide and _worried,_ the blonde kept his gaze focused on the paper in front of him, lips only opening to let out _barely_ audible, panicked mumbles.

“ _Fatal illness_ ,” he muttered, voice breathless, “Doctor Marcoh.. _discharged_.. Philosopher’s Stones--?”

“Brother?”

Head snapping upwards, Ed’s eyes turned to Alphonse, _wild_ and _confused_. Ed quickly snatched the phone, knocking it to his ear, voice noticeably a few notches higher than it had been moments before.

“Thanks, Colonel. I’ll get back to you later.”

“ _You owe me an explanation, Fullm--_ ”

The phone slammed against its base, and Ed stared ahead, breath uneven and hitching. _Summer Epidemic. Fatal illness._ That was around the war. It was the same illness _Mom_ had-- no known cure for it. If _Dante_ was old, she’d be the most susceptible to it, but that didn’t make _sense,_ because like Alphonse _said,_ she wasn’t _old--_

He stared at the notepad.

“What does this have to do with a Philosopher’s Stone, again?” Al whispered, eyes still focused on the telephone that’d been hastily put down.

“Doctor Marcoh. Mustang said she was _tight-knit_ with Marcoh. She was about to die, and she got discharged for it.” Ed paused, pinching at the bridge of his nose and laughing-- anxious and _stressed._ God, how stressed he was. “She was an alchemist who could apparently _fucking heal,_ and the Dante we’re after brings people back from the _dead--_ ”

Alphonse stopped.

And then his eyes _widened_.

“You think.. she’s using the stones to go back to how she was when she was _young_?” 

“You can’t use the stones to de-age, not _really._ It’s impossible. You can make yourself _immortal,_ and you can stop aging if you’re a _homunculus,_ but I’d wager she doesn’t know that.” Shoulders drooping, Ed set down the notepad on the phone stand, tapping his pen against his chest. “That book I mentioned. Milos has some kind of _bodily-alchemy,_ kind of like alkahestry, but it’s basically reattaching skin and insides to your own body. Replacing them, or fusing them-- just like a chimera.”

“That would explain why she looks young.” Alphonse blinked.

“Yeah, and why she’s an alchemist, knows our old man-- who was _immortal--_ why there’s _no_ files on her-- she must’ve fled Ishval after taking one or two of Marcoh’s stones. Could’ve been a last wish to visit Xing, but then she came up with the idea of switching bodies.” Ed snorted, brows furrowing. “Drag some poor sap in, and she’s golden. After she realized she was secure, she set up shop here.”

Al shuddered, and Ed leant against the phone stand, running a hand down his face as he took everything in. It didn’t make _sense._ That didn’t explain a few things. People coming back from the dead was impossible. Sure, homunculi could be the closest thing _to_ that, but--

“That still doesn’t explain why she’s bringing people back from the damn dead. We haven’t even seen any of her revived patients, so it’s not like we can _do_ jackshit.” Sighing, Ed leant his head back, staring at the ceiling-- taking in every last golden detail. “And it doesn’t explain why people are dying, especially like they are. All just a guess, anyways.”

“Yeah, I _guess_.” Al whispered, reaching over to grab Ed’s notepad, carefully tucking his pen into his pant-pocket without a flinch. “Guess it’s something we gotta look into.”

A few beats of silence passed, the only sound in the room consisting of the brothers’ slow breathing, and the slow tick of a grand clock beyond the phone. Edward had _really, truly_ began to wish he hadn’t visited Xing, the large and practically empty room only adding to the feeling that everything felt so _wrong_ to him.

It was interrupted by the door once again, a panicked Ling standing in the way as pure white light peered in-- _wide_ and _wild_ open eyes meeting tired and defeated ones as Edward and Alphonse’s heads turned towards the Emperor.

“Mila and Tina Hampton are dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> Super Ultra Mega Cool Fun Factz About Chapter 5 -
> 
> \- shi pān is once again a name reference!!!! it's an actual chinese pan that was the first chinese attempt to write history. shi also means "tragic death" as a first name in japanese, but is also a romanization of a chinese surname that means "stone"  
> \- pov u are me sprinkling foreshadowing everywhere  
> \- It's Very Important That This Story Uses A Lot Of 03 Logic And Tosses Some Mangahood Shit Into The Dumpster.  
> \- *cryign* Concerned Dad Roy......... wish i could write him more in the first fic but alas  
> \- yea dante had the same illness as trisha and it's one of the reasons ed's so offput but Not The Main Reason. he is seemply frustrated  
> \- thank u cece for inspirign me to actually fuckgin write this chapter <3  
> \- alphonse "Oh God What The Fuck Is Happening" elric  
> \- WE'VE HIT THE REAL PLTOTO!!!!!! or at least some kind of background for dante for now. it's the no turning back point for the gang <3 also i swear there's gonan be more lan fan and co. later on i swear i  
> \- by "mila and tina will come up again" i meant that they will die sorry ed and ling for the trauma  
> \- updates might be a bit slower after chapter 5 because i have to do the second draft for the rest of the story right now.. the way i write is an outline and notes and then a draft and then the actual writing :]


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m tired, Ling.”
> 
> “I know you are.”

Edward never liked the rain.

Despite how much he’d make fun of the Colonel on rainy days-- calling him useless was a _treat_ \-- he’d never been much fond of it. It made his automail ache, promptly getting sick the lot of the time and having to stay indoors. Back when they were traversing the country, neither of the brothers could risk being in the rain too long. Ed, with his multiple layers of clothing, would usually get soaked through to the point he could barely walk. Alphonse would have to cover up his blood seal with something after a while, or else Ed would get scared it'd wash off.

While in Resembool-- he’d had the slightest fondness towards rain, given there’d be a multitude of frogs and worms out. He’d usually go out and pick some, stick them in a bucket, and his Mom would scold him. _Tsk tsk, Edward,_ she’d say, _you’re not allowed to do that-- it makes a mess of the house_. But she’d eventually cave in.

She always caved in. And the riversides in Resembool did too, usually when it stormed.

His distaste for rain didn’t falter. Not now.

Ed wasn’t even sure how it rained in Xing. It was as hot as _hell._ That’d been half the reason he’d passed out on the train-- despite it being cooler than actually going on camelback or something of the sort, it didn’t change the fact that it made everything hot and sweaty. The suburbs of Jinsè were warm, though not quite scalding. If anything, at the moment, they felt damn near cold.

Or maybe that was the way the rain had soaked through his dress shirt and hair, eternally drowning him and making him unable to _breathe._ But that could’ve been the humidity.

“This is insane,” Al had murmured, much to Ed’s ignorance, “who’d even want to _do_ this? Kill a family and their little girl?”

The house was covered yard-to-yard in caution tape, and the bright yellow blinded Ed’s eyes; reflected against his own. The toys still sat in the yard, completely untainted-- a loud, resounding _pitter patter_ forming whenever a particularly rough rain droplet hit the bright plastic. 

They’d never be used again.

“Not anything we haven’t dealt with before,” the words came out dull and tired, and the alchemist stood up straight from his previous slump, “we _really_ can’t even protect one kid, huh?”

Al looked up, gaze landing on his brother, and his eyebrows furrowed.

Ed stared ahead. His hands were balled into fists in his pockets, Alphonse could just tell by the _outline_ \-- and he jumped a little as he’d sighed, biting at his lower lip. Like he was thinking, running things through the motions-- that little thing he’d do whenever he had an idea.

A really bad idea.

“Hey, Alphonse.” He laughed, a newfound sense of determination seeping into his voice. “I’ve got a plan.”

\--

“Are you really sure that you want to storm into the manor?” Ling’s voice resounded from across the room-- front facing towards an extravagant vanity, back towards the door-- and in turn, Ed.

Not much had happened after they went to the Hampton house. Ed couldn’t stay there for long, and neither could Al, he figured. Al thought it was a good idea at the moment-- or at least he _pretended_ to think it was, but Edward figured it was in an attempt to just make him feel better. He didn’t blame him.

After a while, he’d just led himself into Ling’s room. He’d already been at the house earlier, so it didn’t _matter_ if he came with them or not. He didn’t care. 

That’s what he told himself, always. 

It’d been dusk by the time they got back. The offer-up for dinner from before was almost entirely forgotten, only popping back into his mind whenever Edward's stomach rumbled. The sun had already almost completely vanished under the horizon, an array of purples and oranges dancing across and over the gold in the room. And the flora.. _God,_ the flora. Ling’s room had a _lot_ of fucking plants, it _smelled_ like plants, and it was just-- it was extra, really. Fitting for the Emperor, he supposed.

His room sported a personal bath as well-- or at least he figured, judging by the sloshing water beyond a makeshift bamboo fold-wall. The wall to the front of him-- the one Ling was facing, and the one _Ed_ was facing-- it was pretty much entirely elongated windows, all back to back. Ed thought it was.. inconvenient, given he was the Emperor, and that made him _really easy to be assassinated._

He wasn’t worrying. He _wasn’t._

“I don’t know, probably.” Edward murmured, backside leaning against the doorway. His arms were crossed, and god-- his voice sounded so.. he didn’t know, soft? It sounded _sad,_ and he didn’t like it.

There was a pause, and Ling ceased his motions-- undoing his hair from its bun. Black strands came down in waves, and Ed blinked-- quickly steeling himself with a sigh.

“I’m tired, Ling.”

“I know you are.”

There was another moment of silence. The lack of tension-- it was a little off, to Ed. Everything felt _off._ Slightly disjointed to the left, like none of this was supposed to happen. Maybe he’d spent so long being in high-stress situations that he just.

He forgot to _relax._ How to be a _person._ He’d never quite gotten along with a lot of people well, and he blamed that on being a child soldier for the lot of his tween and teenage years. After he and Al split to travel, he didn’t--

\--he didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to do, and it felt so _wrong._

Deciding that he’d had _enough_ of being drowned by his thoughts, Edward finally stood up straight-- breathing in and running a hand down his face. His available hand-- his _right_ hand found its way into one of his pockets-- fidgeting, curling, and uncurling.

“I’m-- I’m sorry, this is all just so _shitty._ I shouldn’t have looked into this.”

Ed was pretty sure Ling blinked, with the way his movements halted, having been dabbing at something with a rag in front of the mirror. Ed didn’t know how getting ready for bed worked as a-- a _king_ of a real big country. A tick passed, and Ling slowly set the rag down, face twisted in confusion as he turned around.

Edward didn’t even bother processing that.

“Ed, this isn’t your fault--”

“You know it is.”

“-- _and_ you need to stop beating yourself up over it. You looked into this because you were worried, and you were right about there something being wrong. There’s something that has someone killing innocent people, and you’re right, as the Emperor, I at the very least need to look into it.”

There was another pause. And Ed just _stared,_ almost like he was analyzing him. And Ling-- Ling just gave him that concerned little _look,_ turning back around and giving his face one last scrub-over. That damn _look._

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Don’t say that,” Ling sighed, and he turned back around-- his expression was _solemn_ _,_ almost _wistful_ _,_ and Ed wasn’t. He wasn’t used to it. He was used to-- used to seeing a _sleezeball_ _,_ some goof, some stupid little teen dressed up in some big, fancy _clothes--_

\--that wasn’t Ling. Not right now.

“--we’ll fix whatever this is, and it won’t happen again.” Ed _knew_ he was trying his damndest to sound reassuring. He knew that. But the way Ling started waltzing over, silky night-robes swishing-- closing a gap between them that felt the exact _opposite_ of _reassuring--_

“You can’t promise that,” he nearly _laughed_ out, voice bitter and tired. It was a stark contrast-- a polar opposite to that constant _fire_ that was there. In voice, in sight, in spirit-- and while that was still _there,_ it just.

It was struggling to keep itself alight, really.

And Ling gave him that look again. That stupid, _despondent_ look, that made him turn his _head,_ because he felt _bad._ He felt _bad_ about it. About this. And it was stupid, because he wasn’t supposed to feel bad about any of this. This was supposed to be a fun trip. A _catching up_ trip. But he wanted to go home. He just wanted to go _home._

“Look at me, Edward,” he heard _Ling_ say, hands resting on his shoulders (which garnered a very quick and unsteady jolt), and the response was _immediate._

Ed nearly regretted it, recoiling an inch at the way their noses brushed. They’d just _brushed._ It was an accident. The way he could feel Ling breathing on his cheeks was an accident too, and the alchemist’s face pinched shut. He turned back off to the side, and Ling had _sighed._

He’d _sighed_ at him. Like he was disappointed.

“We’re going to figure this out _together_ ,” he began, and Ed’s eyes eased back open, glancing within the corner of his vision, “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, and I trust you whole-heartedly. I promise you it won’t happen again, and if it does, it’s _my_ fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” Edward’s eyes snapped back open, and his head whipped back forwards-- ignoring the way the Emperor jolted _just_ so with the scrape of their noses.

He huffed, and he pried Ling’s hands off of his shoulders, quickly stepping to the side and _halting._

Ling floundered for a moment, and then he straightened back up, arms restrained to his sides as he turned to Ed’s back. His voice, when he spoke, was restrained with _something--_ laced with _something_ , and Edward wasn’t sure if it was annoyance, anger, or just plain tiredness. 

“Then,” he started up _again_ _,_ “if neither of us are to blame, why are you beating yourself up over this so much? It’s only been a few hours, so tell me: why are you so quick to pin this all on your name?”

And Ed-- _oh_ , he’d stopped breathing.

Ling could see the way his jaw shifted, the way he almost turned his head to look around-- fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, body entirely tensed and frozen like he was about to _pounce_ on him. And Ling was very sure he would, if given the opportunity.

And he did, technically, and _yet._ He held back.

“Sleep tight, Ling.” Ed turned away, and stalked towards the door. His back was hunched and stiff-- hands shoved tightly into his pockets. And Ling simply just watched him barge through the door with wide, angry strides.

Strangely enough, he seemed to be thinking.

\--

“I think I upset your brother,” Ling had murmured towards Alphonse at supper.

Al, unsurprised, had told him of a story of a girl named “Nina”.

He’d lost his appetite.

\--

Things had started with one of the windows opening. Just a crack.

The thing that’d so gracefully managed to unlock the window-- it didn’t have any real thoughts. No real feelings. Just a set goal in mind, one given to them by _her,_ one that ensured her safety and theirs. The people they were after had been suspicious, she’d said-- catching _on,_ and they couldn’t have any of that. Not if they wanted to live. Maybe even--

\--that was a stupid thought. No real thoughts.

To get their attention away from _her,_ they had to get the attention of something bigger. Something they would surely focus on, something the _world_ would focus on-- and soon enough, they’d forget the name of a little fortune teller named “Dante” that _always_ got it right. They’d be too busy grieving to expect it-- those two boys, _his_ _boys,_ she’d said-- weren’t the type for vengeance. The oldest was exactly like him. He’d acted nearly the same way he did. He nearly looked the same way he did.

And that meant the assassination of the Emperor. Ling Yao.

But it wouldn’t be hard to deal with the boys, at least. In fact, it’d probably be easier to deal with them than the Emperor. One was disarmed, _literally--_ and the other seemed brittle. An underestimation for both of them, really, but they didn’t know that.

They knew to obey _orders,_ sure, and with the way its sharp blade gleamed in the moonlight drifting in from the countless windows-- right above the Emperor, coddled in his one too many sheets-- they knew they’d be awarded greatly for doing this right.

And as they swung the blade down, a sharp _clash_ caught them off guard.

“Thought you could slip me up in my sleep, did you?” A gravelly, boisterous voice asked-- not needing any introduction. “I’m quite the light sleeper, if you ask any of the palace staff.”

Eyes narrowing, they opted to assess the situation. It was dark. Neither of them could really see. From what they’d _heard,_ though, the Emperor didn’t really _need_ to see. He’d obviously pulled his sword from underneath his pillow, as well. But that was alright. If they could run into a blind spot, maybe then--

\--grunting as blades awkwardly clashed, the opponent towering before them-- nearly drunken with sleep-- pressed them backwards in a rough _shove,_ and they stumbled straight into the moonlight.

“It’s _you,_ ” he’d breathily muttered in his native tongue, and the grip on his dāo loosened.

Noting the moment of vulnerability, the exposed figure swung the blunt of their blade to the sharp edge of the other’s sword-- resulting in another stumble backwards, the Emperor shielding himself as his back hit the wall. It rattled with the impact, a nearby unlit candle shaking and tipping over the edge, shattering.

His gaze darted towards it, for just a split second.

“It’s me,” a feminine voice murmured, “and I’m really, really sorry for this, Emperor Yao.”

Dagger pulling back beyond their hip, the Emperor twitched in place-- gasping at the sudden lack of weight. He rushed to move his own blade, but then he--

\--stopped. Eyes locking on something behind him.

In a moment, a few things happened. A bare forearm tightly latched over the intruder’s neck, and another hand rushed to grip the wrist holding the dagger, twisting it _just_ _so_ the blade would slip out of their grasp. And it clattered to the floor-- while the restrained stranger made a strangled noise akin to something _distraught._

“Quick tip if you wanna kill somebody,” a tired voice gritted-- scowling lips barely an _inch_ from the intruder’s ear, “be _quiet_ about it.”

After a minute or two’s desperate struggle-- resulting in long nails clawing into the naturally unprotected forearm, dragging and _begging_ for some desperate release accompanied by gurgling and thrashing-- the grip loosened, and one of Ling’s _courtsmen_ fell limp.

Ling barely even managed to process the bare minimum as they crumpled to the ground. A sun-kissed arm fell to its side after the loud heartbeat in his head stopped _drumming_ _,_ he noted-- he'd heard multiple quick, panicked sets of footsteps barging through the door--

\--and there were bright, golden eyes staring directly at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on the weekend every week or two!!!
> 
> hmu on tumblr or twitter @elriccore!!! i'd love to see fanart or get asked questions abt my fics!!!!!! :]
> 
> \--
> 
> ch. 6 Epic Cool Mega Fun Facts -
> 
> \- WE'RE FUCKGIN BACK BABEY!!!  
> \- the mini-hiatus was really just for the holidays and a de-stressor (also worked on writing something else /w someone) but hey!!! chapter 6 is out!!! rest of the story is pretty much drafted and done i just gotta update this babie on the weekends. it should be a week-by-week thing by now  
> \- i sure hope you fuckgin read the fun facts after the chapter itself but the assassin is, very much, one of the two people wary of ed and one of the people that wanted to see the persons' records in chapter 1 and 5 respectively  
> \- i was so fucking frustrated writing the draft for this chapter (things are usually a lot different in the draft than the final cut. with the lack of description it was a lot more tender and i *slam baby hands*) because i just wanted these bitches to kiss already  
> \- ed cannot sleep and will not get sleep ever  
> \- i don't have many facts and whatnot set up for this chapter (there'll be some in chapter 7!) but uhm  
> \- there was a deleted scene that was cut down really short (which. it's pretty obvious what it is) that i had COMPLETELY drafted out for this chapter and i'm pretty sure i'm jsut gonna write all of holle's deleted scenes at some point and just post them as a mini fic that isnt strung together at all  
> \- ed was a fuckgin frog kid no one talk to me  
> \- i hate writing action scenes more than anything else in the world, which is unfortunate for me because we have a Big Storm Coming. was fun to test it out real quick tho!


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ling swallows the knot in his throat away. It’s like he hadn’t slept.
> 
> “It’s one of my councilmen,” he inevitably announced, clearing his throat to steel his voice, “they came in while I was asleep and tried to assassinate me.”

“What was that?” 

Turning their heads to the sleepy, yet unbelieving voice by the door, Ed and Ling’s gazes both met Alphonse-- hair thoroughly tangled and matted over his head, down and long. He was still in his pajamas, unlike the person beside him: Lan Fan, completely clothed in her regular guard attire. 

“Good question,” Ed yawned, stepping into the moonlight shed by the windows. Alphonse quickly padded forward to his side, Lan Fan briskly striding alongside him. “I heard somethin’ breaking over the wall, and I came to check it out.”

The light sheds on Ed’s body just _so--_ painting the picture of the alchemist’s not-quite-sleep-frazzled-hair, tired golden eyes that burned with _fire,_ and the fact that he was still in his normal day clothes. That sparked a bit of confusion, and Al seemed to read Ling’s own mind, giving him a confused to concerned once-over.

Ling swallows the knot in his throat away. It’s like he hadn’t slept.

“It’s one of my councilmen,” he inevitably announced, clearing his throat to steel his voice, “they came in while I was asleep and tried to assassinate me.”

Everyone’s gazes turned. There was a silent _‘uh, yeah,’_ potent and consecutive. Lan Fan quickly stepped out of the way and towards the limp body, tenderly picking up the assassin’s blade with a small amount of curiosity and care. 

“We can see that.” Tussling his hair, Al sighed, running a hand over his wrinkled pajamas. Lan Fan tenderly dragged the unconscious body into the light, propping it between the bedframe and the floor before lifting the hilt into the air.

“Whoever it was, they were hired.” Flipping the handle in her grip so the tip pointed upwards, she inspected it for a moment, before tossing it towards Ling will full faith that he’d catch it. The handle itself was uneven and rocky-- pure gold, little red gems littered along the engravings. The blade was twisted-- long and sharp, and not quite ideal for an assassination.

“I’d assume so, yes,” Ling sighed, dropping the dagger to his hip, “they said they were ‘sorry’ about having to kill me. It was surprisingly hard to defend myself against them-- almost like they were superhuman.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t think a lady doin’ paperwork would be that _strong._ " Lifting up his arm, Ed licked his lips, gaze darting towards the multiple gashes that lined the skin. They were deep and _desperate,_ pulsing and throbbing and dribbling blood. Al’s eyes widened, and he hobbled over closer, grabbing his wrist and inspecting Ed’s forearm. “Quick with her hands, maybe, but not as strong as.. _whatever_ that was.”

Gaze shifting over towards Alphonse, Ed blinked as Alphonse suddenly released his wrist and _clapped,_ tenderly pressing his hands on top of the skin as it began to reform and heal over itself. The bright green light emitted made Ed squint a little while Al focused, but he turned his head back to Ling-- shrugging his shoulders with a wistful little grin.

“I’d just say to tie her up. We can probably figure out somethin’ from her.”

Shuddering a little as Alphonse finally finished patching up his arm, Edward’s brows knitted together-- twisting his arm up and over as if making sure it was actually _healed._ The green light quickly faded, and he kneaded at the skin with his thumb-- lips pursing at the thin outline of barely noticeable scars where the lacerations used to be. 

Alkahestry felt _weird._ It was like-- having your arm and leg being torn off in reverse, sort of. You could feel everything just.. knitting back together. 

Letting out a dramatic, defeated sigh, Ed snapped his arm back up to tussle his hair-- Al shoving his shoulder and making him stumble. 

The shaky laughter melted and fizzled in Ling’s own mind as he stepped between the lady’s sprawled out legs, squatting with the blade in hand. For a few moments, he stared, fiddling it around while he seemed to contemplate. And a few ticks later, his head turned up towards Lan Fan-- gesturing forwards with his hand.

“Lan Fan, would you get us some rope?”

\--

It’d taken a while, but the assassin finally woke up.

None of them were quite sure how long they’d been waiting-- hours, minutes, not like it really mattered. Lan Fan had long since obtained them all rope, having tied the intruder up with it. She made sure to use multiple layers, keeping in mind Ling’s ‘superhuman strength’ exaggeration. Al said they probably had some spices to wake them up faster around (Ed wasn’t surprised, Xing seemed damn keen on the things)-- but Ling had shrugged it off, saying he could at least use the time to plan out his words.

No one really knew how this was going to go. Ling had simply been sitting there, squatting, _waiting,_ eyes open intently and staring. Ed almost wanted to tell him to _give it a rest_ at one point, and he’d walked forwards to do it-- but Lan Fan halted him by her arm, and so he stayed. Impatiently, and almost fretting.

Edward wasn’t quite sure how this all went. He’d only been in Xing for a few days, opinion and reason for being here tossed and turned and flipped around all in the span of his visit. He was feeling things he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be feeling, he was thinking things that seemed ludacris and absurd, and he all thought this was a bit overboard.

Still. He didn’t know how things worked around here. So maybe this was a learning experience for him. _Maybe._

So he knew when the stranger in front of them finally blinked open their eyes and stirred, the first thing they’d see would be the Emperor, just sitting there-- menacingly, almost. Despite meaning to be threatening with the pigpoker and all, Ed just.. couldn’t really see it. Yeah, Ling had been intimidating before, especially when they’d first met, but the fact that _maybe_ he’d go too far in front of them was something he barred from crossing his mind. 

Torture and murder weren’t justified in Edward Elric’s eyes, and everyone who had talked to him for more than five minutes knew that.

Edward could tell exactly when their senses kicked in, too. They started wriggling, testing the waters the moment they’d registered the fact that they were sitting and restrained-- not quite in the best reinforced manner, but held back by something nonetheless. And they seemed almost disgruntled, giving up with a slight pout that made Alphonse snort beside him after a moment of worming around. Probably reminded him of a damn cat.

He could tell when their gaze landed on the Emperor, too. Staring, eyes hot and furious, almost like they were trying to will him to spontaneously combust with their eyes. For Ling’s sake, he hoped that wouldn’t happen. And he knew well that it probably wouldn’t, given he’d looked at him the same way a few times.

“Ah, yes,” Ed _jumped_ at the sudden voice, smooth, calm, and _cold,_ “we made sure to use multiple layers for you. You’re nice and snug, aren’t you?”

Ling twirled around the blade in his hand, staring at it with fake curiosity (he was damned _see-through,_ Ed thought with a small hint of amusement) before pressing the tip carefully against the woman’s pale neck. Not hard. Not enough to even leave a mark. Just tenderly and ghostly enough to give you that little _prick_ that wasn’t caused by the dagger, no, but by _goosebumps._

_“Untie me,”_ they hissed, and Edward’s brows lifted. Their legs wriggled around for a moment as well, before they owlishly blinked and looked down-- only to notice that their _ankles_ were tied together by rope as well.

And then they looked back up, eyes fiery and still of red-hot fury. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Alphonse announced from Edward’s side, hands fisted in his pajama pockets-- striped, baggy, and blue. He carefully leant against the misused window, half-sitting and half-standing on the sill. “Not until you tell us why you did this.”

Edward’s arms stayed adamantly crossed against his chest, gaze flickering between the stranger and averting-- tense and unsure. Alphonse, despite the unusual coldness to his voice that _almost_ everyone except Ed was unused to, seemed the same way. Fidgety, a bit anxious, and like he was ready to step in at any possible moment.

He seemed like he didn’t want to see this happening, either.

“We just have a few questions.” Pulling out a blade from its sheath, Lan Fan gently gestured towards the assassin. “You are required by _law_ to respond to the Emperor’s demands, and if you don’t, you are to suffer the repercussions in front of his majesty’s court.”

“--We have your weapon,” Ling continued, pulling the blade back and tapping the tip against his finger, “and we have immediate backup-- my guard and the two men over there. I, personally, would like to hear what you have to say.”

“That won’t do much on me,” continuing to wriggle-- a bit more furiously now, the intruder snorted, “you really don’t understand.”

Ling’s eyelids drifted shut, and his head slowly cocked to the side. While the stranger laughed, the emperor seemed as if he were trying to piece things together-- grip on the handle of the twisted dagger shifting every few moments. 

“Start with your name.” He finally spoke after a few ticks of thought, voice empty and serious. _Almost professional,_ Ed thought, though he wasn’t quite sure if that was simply for intimidation or solely because he felt like he _had_ to be.

“You already know it, _your majesty,”_ sneering and smiling, the courtsman’s head tilted to the side-- tone shifting into a calm, collected, and sugar-y sweet one, “Genji Jīn. I just started working with the court a few days ago, and I’m keeping track of your persons’ records. You don’t really keep the place clean though, do you, Emperor Yao?”

Ling seemed to squint his eyes, although humanely impossible in Edward’s point of view. The newly-named Genji _laughed,_ shrugging their shoulders the best they could as they tittered and teetered around. And Ed paused.

_Persons’ records._

“Who hired you?” Ling spoke back up, interrupting Ed’s train of thought. He sounded almost exasperated, _clearly tired_ given the time, and Ed focused on that in favor of ignoring Ling pressing the tip of the blade to Genji’s throat.

“No one _hired_ me,” they snorted, voice amused-- almost like it was a well-known fact, “I’m just protecting myself.”

“Okay, well--” Ling started, voice filled with some kind of _annoyance,_ before shifting to surprise as Edward quickly stepped forward, snatching the blade from his hand with minimal struggle. The Emperor’s eyes shot open, and Edward fumbled the dagger around in his hand before it hung _downwards._

“You attacked _first_ ,” Ed snorted, kneeling down on a knee, “whatever ‘protecting yourself’ means. And you apparently didn’t _want_ to, so either you’re _lying_ to us, or you’re working for a woman named--”

_“Edward.”_

Blinking as he was cut off in return, Ed paused-- eyes squeezing shut for a few moments, mentally counting to _three_ before he held the hilt out to Ling. After a moment of hesitation-- or whatever else, Ed couldn’t tell-- Ling took back the dagger, resituating it in his hands. 

When Ed opened his eyes, it was pressed against the assassin’s cheek.

After a few moments of silence and intensely staring at the intruder, Ling gently bumped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. Edward _blinked,_ lips curling in the shape of a small ‘o’-- sighing, standing up, and stalking back over towards the windowsill with Alphonse. And he almost _pouted,_ arms returning to cross over his chest and stare at the councilman without falter.

And as Ling turned back around to them, having before made sure Ed walked off, his gaze sharpened-- noticeably less soft and understanding than it had been moments prior. The shift was instantaneous, but not unusual for him, they all knew. 

“Like he said,” clearing his throat, Ling continued, voice dangerous and low, “do you know a lady named Dante?”

There was a moment of silence, tension cutting through the previous atmosphere with ease.

\--And then they _laughed._

_“Oh,_ the old lady!” They cackled, and everyone seemed to _tense._ Ling’s eyes widened, Alphonse seemed to freeze, and Lan Fan seemed to ready herself for a fight that wouldn’t happen. Edward, off to the side, stared, standing straight and tight. 

“Old lady?” Alphonse muttered, and Ed’s mind _reeled._

Persons’ records. Dante being an old lady. Unusual deaths, the Philosopher’s stone--

“Yeah, that old decrepit.” Genji snorted, long black hair falling to the side, staring at the brothers through slitted eyes. “Of course she’d drag you into her issues. Doesn’t this explain a lot?”

“Why would she drag us into her-- ‘issues’?” Ling demanded, voice unsure and confused, but loud and professional nonetheless. The blade pressed deeper into the soft skin there, getting worryingly close to drawing blood.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The tip of the dagger pressed against the skin a little deeper, and that’s what drove everything off the edge. Carefully carving out a slit in the cheek with focused hands, a thick, red stream rushed to their cheek.

And in the split of a second, a few things happened.

Everyone’s eyes widened.

Their faces were bathed in a bright and warm, flashing and crackling red light that healed over the injured skin--

\--and Ling had dropped the blade, letting it clatter to the floor.

It was a homunculus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on the weekend every week or two!!!
> 
> hmu on tumblr or twitter @elriccore!!! i'd love to see fanart or get asked questions abt my fics <3!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> ch. 7 super epic and cool fun facts -
> 
> \- i think this is the fastest chapter ive written so far. also probably the shortest??? i considered merging chapter 7 and 8 but they felt better split up  
> \- genji jīn actually just means "gold gold"  
> \- there's not much to say abt this chapter other than like... theres been buildup.. hopefully yall got some of ur questions answered!!! some of u might have more questions than answers in which i say there'll be answers in the next few chapters  
> \- as promised im updating every weekend!!! yall can get updates for the fic on my twitter mainly  
> \- ed and ling dont get their beauty sleep asmr  
> \- trying to include more lan fan and co. because im accidentally centering this on ed and ling too much whenever i write the chapters. my bias is showing /j


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d fallen for him hard at this point. And he hadn’t-- not yet. 

Things had settled down since then. 

After the revelation that the assassin  _ might have been a homunculus _ (Ed really wasn’t sure how he was coping with that at the moment), Lan Fan had long since apprehended them and locked them up somewhere in the palace. Somewhere with a few other people, probably for interrogation, Ling had told him. Wouldn’t be surprised if they were just planning to inspect them and then execute them, somehow. 

Al said he wanted to go back to sleep after all the commotion and handle things in the morning, but Ed figured he was looking for  _ some damn reasoning  _ as to how a homunculus-- of all things, even existing at all-- was in Xing. Edward knew that kid. He probably wouldn’t even get a wink of sleep after all that. He always had issues with calming down after high-stress situations, especially after getting his body back.

Since then, dawn had come-- hadn’t quite gone yet, leaving a warm, bright orange cast of sunlight dancing around the room. Almost like the night before, a subtle mimic to the calm before the storm. Orange rose against gold, tinkering wind chimes subtly sung outside, and somehow-- despite all the windows-- Ling’s room managed to be a little dim.

Ling, of course, had opted to clean everything himself. He’d been doing a lot of things himself lately. Which shouldn’t have surprised Edward, necessarily, given Ling had always been that kind of person  _ after _ first glance give or take-- but he couldn’t really get the image of a stuck-up emperor out of mind whenever he actually thought of royalty. Those greedy ones, always depicted as bad bastards, or funnily enough, damsels in distress in fairytales. It was funny, really, and a nice surprise from what Ed would think he’d grow to be.

\--Which, in hindsight, was a stupid train of thought. Especially given Ling was just making his damned bed.

And had done a little sweeping, maybe, solely because of the broken candle that was no longer discarded off to the side on the floor. Edward was pretty sure most of the palace staff didn’t even know about the assassination yet, or else they’d be fretting-- and he was half-sure that they never would.

Ed wasn’t even quite sure why he stayed in Ling’s room. He’d been doing a lot of that recently, he acknowledged. Again, if people knew about it, people would talk, and it’d get written into the papers and there’d be a bunch of gossip and blah blah  _ blah. _ They were just friends. Just friends! Ling would get his stupid one-hundred consorts or whatever the hell after all this was said and done, and Ed would fuck off to Resembool and do a bunch of research. He’d chill out with Al in their house, and they’d live happily ever after. It worked, and that’s how it’d go. 

He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d fallen for him hard at this point. And he hadn’t-- not yet. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Ed murmured, a finger hooked under his chin-- his  _ own _ chin, which he mourned.

The alchemist wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been leaning against Ling’s desk-- how many did he need, honestly-- which had been covered from end-to-end in papers that he could pretty well tell were all in Xingese. He couldn’t read a single damn one, and he didn’t know if they were part of some political thing, or if they were sappy poems for someone Ling might’ve been pining for. 

After making his bed, Ling finally sat down on it, posture quickly relaxing with a contented sigh. He probably needed food, which wouldn’t really surprise Ed, who watched his eyes slip back shut. He hadn’t necessarily had time to eat breakfast-- and he didn’t have time to sleep much, either. He was probably still exhausted, especially judging by the ever-present creases lining his eyes that Ed found just a little bit charming and depressing.

Maybe he could just convince him to sleep after this. He needed the rest so  _ damned  _ bad.

“The only homunculi I’ve seen were made by Father, but he's _dead,_ and the only one left is  _ Selim-- _ ” Ed groaned and tussled his hair, removing his weight from the desk and waltzing over to Ling. After a moment of hesitation and watching, Ed gave in, turning around and flopping onto the bed back-first. “We know they work for Dante now, so there’s  _ something, _ but I just don’t get it.”

“Well, how are homunculi created?” Ling chimed, and Ed perked up. “It’s not impossible, we now know. I don’t know much about alchemy, but a superhuman creature that can heal  _ and  _ takes the shape of a human--”

“Homunculi are man-made humans by definition, but I didn’t think people could actually go through with making them.” Ed’s head falls back onto the large, lavish bed, and Ling blinks while Ed’s own eyes  _ close, _ watching the way the golden waves pool around his head. The sprawl is restrained, given Edward’s hair is still tucked back-- but with the way the dawnlight hits his hair  _ just right, _ it practically looks like molten gold. “Guess it  _ could _ make sense, given she’s got the stone-- or multiple, who knows how many Marcoh made.”

Ling hummed, and pressed a gentle, calloused hand to the crown of Ed’s hair. It meshed well, sinking into the silky strands-- and Ed’s eyes snapped opened as Ling gave his scalp a slow, reassuring  _ stroke.  _ His gaze followed the hand as it retracted, lips slightly agape, and his eyes finally met the Emperor’s-- who only gave him a  _ smile _ in response.

Damn him.

“Well, you said you wanted to sneak into the manor at night, yes?” He quickly moved to inquire, and Ed’s head tilted against the sheets, before carefully nodding. “We’ll figure out the answer then. It can’t be much harder to infiltrate the enemy than it is to capture a homunculus-- with minor struggle, might I add.”

“Yeah, I noticed how easy it was too,” Ed mumbled, cursing his voice for the way it suddenly softened, “homunculi don’t pass out. They also usually have some sort of special ability-- like Greed’s shield, y’know?”

Ling’s lips pursed, and Ed’s head turned towards the ceiling, giving it a scrutinizing look as he seemed to analyze every little intricate engraving.

“That Genji lady-- she scratched up my arm real bad, but superhuman abilities are pretty normal.” Ling paused, looking confused, and Ed’s gaze darted towards one of the windows lining the left wall. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all her special ability was. We know she’s a homunculus because they have that sorta-- I dunno, regeneration-- and she probably has an ouroboros somewhere on her body. But what I think--”

Ed sits up, and Ling almost jumps-- eyes slitting open as the alchemist runs a hand over his own hair, smoothing out the frizzes and stray strands sticking out here and there. Golden eyes meet dark ones, looking set and serious-- before Edward sighs, and smiles almost  _ wistfully. _

“--Dante’s got Philosopher’s Stones, right?” Ed began. “Theoretically. But they’re the fake ones-- made by Doctor Marcoh. They don’t have a whole lot of lives jam-packed in them. The guy we fought-- Father-- had the real deal. And if the murders are connected to a new set of homunculi--”

Ling blinked. Once. Twice.

“She’s using the people she kills for the stones?” Ling murmured.

Ed blinked back.

“That’s what I’m assuming,” Ed snorts, nodding and folding his hands in his lap, “we won’t know until we ask, but I just think these homunculi are just her special brand of counterfeits.”

\--

Ed and Ling had conversed a little bit more after all that. Their lives hadn’t necessarily revolved around that entire case-- despite it being a priority. Ed really was just here to visit and catch up. And it was nice, with what little breaks they’d gotten. Ed told Ling about Aerugo, Ling told Ed about how being an Emperor was.

Ed learned that his suspicions were right when it came to the job being extremely,  _ extremely  _ tiring.

There was a lot of talk about consorts, and Ed wasn’t surprised-- though he was pleasantly surprised to know that he was trying to abolish the system. He didn’t know if he liked the way his stomach flipped when he brought it up. 

Apparently, the lot of his court was older than Ling had expected they’d be-- hence his hasty hiring that led to the person that damn near got him killed-- and had focused on keeping the old ways that had been passed down from emperor to emperor, just like he’d said when Ed first arrived.

Ling, of course, wasn’t having any of that, much to their dismay.

That whole consort system hadn’t quite been abolished yet, and a lot of the men on the council who had yet to be replaced kept trying to stress it and push it forwards to keep it in check. Ling had said he wasn’t really sure why they were trying so hard, and his best guess was that they were always making sure there was an heir-- which he frankly said he found  _ gross  _ (which Ed got a little chuckle out of), and had said he planned for May to be next in line if anything were to happen.

Edward found the idea of May as empress a little funny, given she was what-- only seventeen at the moment? Ling said it wouldn’t be a big deal even  _ if  _ something were to happen right now, which he doubted, given he’d apparently gained the throne the moment he presented the damned stone. The previous Emperor had only died a year after Ling returned, making Ling emperor at age  _ fucking sixteen. _

Not surprising either, but it shifted the mood and made Ed a little bit more sympathetic for him. Add that onto the list of things he felt worrisome about.

When it came to talking about Aerugo-- there wasn’t really much Ed ended up going on about. He rattled over the alchemy they used, something he hadn’t really bothered rambling about to Al, and he mentioned stuff about the Aerugonian ruler who wanted a peace treaty with Amestris. Ling seemed vaguely interested in that and only that, really, which again-- not a big surprise.

And the epidemic... Ling seemed a bit curious about that. Ed didn’t want to talk about it that much, so it was quickly brushed off. The town Ed ended up staying in was called  _ Riverstead, _ name explanatory and all. It was kind of dusty and sandy, and it reminded Ed of all the western novels he’d read. The buildings had even matched up with the descriptions that he’d described in detail-- rickety rotting wood that was shoddily nailed together, swinging signs and doors, a bar with a piano, dust storms, and a bunch of houses. Ed seemed to like that place.

Everything, he said, was pleasant except the inn. There were bugs and grease everywhere he looked, and by the third or so day he was in there, the epidemic hit-- and his room was covered wall-to-wall in research papers and books scattered about. Everything in that town smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, and Ling made an off-remark about visiting-- which made Ed snort dismissively.

Ed apparently tried to contact Alphonse about it, to no avail. He said something about the phone lines being on-and-off and pretty unreliable, so it was an absolute pain to even try to contact someone when that sickness came about. Everyone and their mother seemed to be contacting distant relatives or their doctors. Kids were especially susceptible to it, and Ed said he really wished he’d come to Xing and learned more about alkahestry sooner before actually visiting the damned place.

Ling didn’t make him elaborate any farther.

Reminiscing over things from an hour or so ago was a thing of the past, however, and after the nice little conversation he and Ling had-- Ed made his way back to his own room, where Alphonse had been waiting-- sitting on his bed, looking sleepless and a little bit peeved.  _ What a surprise that had been, _ the sarcastic little side of Ed’s mind quipped.

“How’s your arm?” Was the first thing he’d said, and Edward was pretty sure he was going to be interrogated.

Ed opted to walk over to his bed, flopping down and laying on his side-- back turned towards Alphonse, who he noticed had picked up Shitface and begun petting; and she purred  _ contentedly, _ the damned traitor.

“It’s fine,” Ed sighed, waving it up into the air for proof, “kinda sucks that it was the right one. Hoped it wouldn’t get fucked up. You did a good job patchin’ it up, though.”

Al  _ sighed, _ and Shitface wormed out of his grip-- mewling, causing Ed to turn his head, and eventually leading him to snicker as the little cat made her merry way to curl up right by Alphonse’s hip. 

“Why were you up last night, brother?” The question was more of a demand to answer, judging by Alphonse’s tired yet insistent tone of voice-- and Ed’s eyes narrowed, expression shifting into something a bit more wistful. His gaze darted to the floor, scrutinizing it just as he did with Ling’s ceiling with a hint less valor than before.

“I wasn’t,” he lied, “I just heard the candle shattering. That was all.”

“Ed, you were still in your  _ clothes. _ ” Al’s voice crescendoed into something more annoyed and knowing, and Edward’s brows knitted together. He almost winced at his actual name being used-- feeling like a damn child being scolded by their mom.

And Ed blinked, train of thought shattering.

His body tensed for a moment, and it took him a few moments of silence to relax back against the bed-- just now acutely noticing how tired he felt. He’d been thinking about the creases Ling’s eyes had, and how he very specifically ignored his own. His ponytail felt tangled, and he was sure he needed a shower. And at the same time, he felt like he was giving into something.

“I wanted to take a walk to get away from all this,” he mumbled, “hoped it’d clear my head. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You can talk about it, you know.”

Ed rolled over on his other side, facing Alphonse. He’d really only just now noticed that Al didn’t really look  _ mad-- _ just a little sad, if anything. Maybe a bit betrayed, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why, and he felt a little uncomfortable with the way Al’s head was just slightly turned back to. Stare at him.

“Talking about it doesn’t bring the dead back to life. The Hamptons are proof of that.”

“I know. Just--” Al sighed, cutting himself off and shaking his head, almost frustrated, “-- you could afford to be a bit more available. When Ling came to get supper last night, he was worried about you. He thought he made you mad.”

Edward felt his expression soften a few pegs, and he pursed his lips. His head tilted upwards-- and he  _ almost _ looked surprised. Almost.

A few ticks passed, and Al’s gaze shifted from his brother to the window. Ed looked back downwards, worming so his hands were held in front of him-- staring and leaning all of his weight into the bed. About a minute or so later, Ed hadn’t counted-- he smiled, and  _ laughed. _

His hands were meant to give life, weren’t they?

“I didn’t even  _ know _ them, Al.” His voice cracked, and his hands dropped back in front of him-- legs curling upwards, sheets rustling with the motion. “I talked to them for what, thirty minutes? I didn’t kill them. And I feel like  _ shit. _ ”

“I know,” was the only thing his brother could respond with, in the quietest, reassuring murmur. Ed could vaguely register Al glancing at him from the corner of his eye, petting  _ his _ cat, before his own vision went blurry.

“By the way,” he continued, and Edward watched him stand up, “Lan Fan found a few interesting things.”

\--

“So they didn’t come back,” Dante sighed, staring out a window and into the forest that surrounded the manor. 

The window itself was extravagant-- polished golden curls and designs lining each frame, differing and symbolising something different. This one-- the one depicting each layer of hell-- was her favorite to look out of. And it had the nicest view, too. She could see the top of every tree from up here.

All her alchemic handiwork, of course. The gold wasn’t even real gold-- transmuted all from the ground-up. It felt reasonable to transmute it regardless, illegal or not, given all the gold the capital of Xing had to offer in its architecture was a bit skepticism-inducing.

“No, my lady,” a man spoke-- a southern twang lacing his voice. It was sugary and sweet, and so  _ quiet.  _ It was always her favourite to hear out of the bunch.

It complimented the music she loved to hear on loop extremely well.

\--And the man simply bowed, she could see in the lightest reflection-- long, black hair tucked into a bun bouncing with the motion. The suit he wore matched the formality of which he spoke, she reasoned.

“I see,” and there was a pause, the only sound coming from the gramophone just slightly beyond her. “What happened?”

“While I was there, the eldest Elric butted in at the last moment.” Sighing, he stands straight and tall. “They almost killed the Emperor, too, according to his bodyguard. I was impressed, but it was a little underwhelming, really.”

“Did you at least learn anything?”

“They plan on invading your home in a few nights. I’ll tell you when they plan to, but you should be prepared,” laughing smugly, the man’s hands found their way to his hips, grinning almost sleazily. Disgusting it was, in her eyes, every little sin and virtue having once blessed these people in their past lives. “I think you’re really underestimating them like you always do. They might be dangerous-- catching onto things as quickly as they are.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from the sons of Hohenheim and his eldest’s..  _ interest-- _ ” sighing almost disgustedly, Dante turns her head. “--What about them?”

“I have a knack for these sorts of things.” Clasping their hands, a bright, red, crackling flash of light covered the room--

\--and as Dante watched them deconstruct and reconstruct, she simply thought.

And what stood before the gowned-lady was a short man, golden-haired and golden-eyed.

“I’d say we let them come here,” the man continued, voice pitched higher than before; causing Dante’s brows to raise, “if an assassination won’t work, then  _ we  _ can handle them in our home domain.”

A pause.

“Be careful with that.” Head turning back towards the window, Dante drummed her fingers against her chin. “Your stone’s power is limited,  _ shapeshifter. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> ch. 8 super epic and cool fun facts -
> 
> \- this chapter was really really fun to write!!! also getting getting close to 100 kudos and im sofuckgin.. excited.. i'll probably draw something for it!!!! i wanted to do something at 1,000 hits but i missed that Severely  
> \- edward "idk im not gay for him but i kinda wanna kiss him" elric  
> \- also ed's internal debate there is just.. being gay in the 1920s be like that..........  
> \- this is ANOTHER chapter that made me super fuckign angry while drafting it. kiss kiss fall in love already you stupid little bitches  
> \- *sprinkle more foreshadowing like i know what im doing*  
> \- also god just. stan alphonse. this poor bitch having to deal with his emotionally constipated brother 💔 when do i get to write an alphonse-centric fic. hes the protag now  
> \- uhh one of the scenes in here wasnt even planned originally!!! regardless it was really fun to elaborate on stuff i mentioned in chapter 1 and ed's adventures in aerugo.. i have some plans for touching on in the third fic???  
> \- ed having a gay crisis vs. ling's clingy ass going "omg cute boy"


	9. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the best he would sleep for a while.

After everything earlier, Al opted to decide that it was best to just show Edward what Lan Fan meant. Coincidentally, and much to both of their discomforts, they were in the palace’s dungeon-- or something of the sort. Ed thought it looked like one. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was. It was pretty damn extra for one, though, dimly-lit and covered wall-to-wall in polished granite.

The granite itself hadn’t been cleaned for a while, it seemed. There were bits and pieces chipped off everywhere, probably in a weak attempt for people to escape, and the place was crawling with filth. They had to walk down some strange corridor that led to a lot of stairs, and a lot of cells lined up parallel to each other. Xingese criminals were locked inside, or so Ed assumed-- and he decided that he didn’t like the way they reached at him through the gaps of their confinements and groaned things that he couldn’t quite understand. Alphonse didn’t flinch, beyond seeming the slightest bit shifty and uncomfortable. Maybe he knew what they were saying.

Ed simply assumed they were just looking for a way to leave. Could’ve been the golden eyes and hair again, too. That seemed to be a big deal. Some of them just looked at them plain weird, some yelled, and some seemed like they were begging for something, and the cacophony of ruckus sent Ed’s mind reeling as they all neared the exit. The first one, anyways.

It was also kind of musty down here. Kind of humid, and he could pretty well tell this was underground judging by the air pressure. Far underground, deducted from the stairs. And god-- whatever this place was, it was long. Big. They kept walking and walking for a while, and the reaching and the begging never stopped. 

Not for a while. Not until they reached a clearing, down some more stairs, and that’s when it all finally subsided into background noise. Ed was at peace then. They’d probably have to go back that way to go back upstairs, but it was at least a break. The clearing itself was round, and it had more cells lined up-- bigger and darker, almost looming overhead in the warm yellow light, despite it all being so, _so_ cold. It seemed almost clean. New. Except a shiny red spot off to the side.

It was a torture room, and Alphonse had kept completely silent about it.

But May and Lan Fan were there. Right in the middle. Like they were waiting for something. And Ed clicked it _all_ together judging by the weapons on the walls that didn’t look necessarily fun, and the way it was all clean. Empty. Too clean. Far away from everything else. The solid granite made sense.

That little part of his mind hoped it was only this clean because Ling never let anyone use it.

“An ouroboros tattoo?” Had been the words that left his mouth in a hurry, on instinct and without filter. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d spaced out for who knew how long. All he knew was that May and Lan Fan started to go on about what they found when they started interviewing the assassin.

“That’s the gist,” Lan Fan sighed, and Ed noted that she was still in her normal apparel from last night. No one really had the need to change. It almost left him to wonder if Lan Fan stayed up all the time, too. Like Ling. Maybe they all just needed a damn bath. And a nap. Xing had a thing about baths and beds, right? “Our suspicions were confirmed when we tried to interrogate them farther.”

Ed winces. Alphonse, from what he could tell, seemed pretty uncomfortable too. Al kept pretty damn quiet, like he’d already been over this and really hadn’t wanted to be. He shifted, averted his eyes, rocked on his heels, and Edward couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck was even going on here. He hoped this wasn’t a common occurrence.

Alphonse staying quiet didn’t last for much longer.

“Did she say anything about--”

“Dante?” May interrupted, cutting Alphonse off, before rolling her eyes. Ed’s eyebrows arched, almost surprised by Al speaking up and asking anything at all-- given he was still under the impression that Al had a whole runover of all this. Apparently not. “They were stubborn, and I may not know much about what you three are doing, but yes. They were quite the coward once we got started.”

Ed stills. And even then, he finally took the time to note what May was wearing-- donning more casual attire. Her hair was tucked back into her usual braids, but her qipao didn’t even necessarily act as a dress anymore. It seemed to have been ridden up and tucked into the black shorts she wore, used as a baggy shirt. The shorts themselves were held up by suspenders matched in colour, and beyond that, she seemed to have snuck on some knee-high socks and black flats that looked eerily similar to Ling’s old ones.

That wasn’t necessarily important, though. 

“That’s a surprise,” Edward snorted-- arms crossed, “cowardice didn’t stop them from pissing off Ling.”

“‘Pissing off Ling’ isn’t necessarily an accurate representation of his feelings,” Lan Fan sighed, one hand hooking to her hip. “He really is just tired. I’ve tried to persuade him to get more rest countless times, saying that I could get other people to help with his work, but he’s worryingly over-determined to do things on his own now. You should give him more credit, Edward."

Ed pauses, tensing-- before quickly glancing down. He already knew Ling was tired. It was pretty damn obvious to see right through the guy, from the bags under his eyes to just about everything else. He’s not even sure why he’s surprised. Maybe it’s because he had Lan Fan and Fu do everything back when they were teenagers, but-- well.

Fu’s gone now, and Ling’s the Emperor. Of course he’d want things done right. It’s probably all just to make sure things get right, and so he doesn’t get sabotaged.

A little depressing for Ed to even think about, really.

“Yeah, I.. know that.” Ed murmurs, crossing his arms. A light hint of red dances across his cheeks and nose, tickling his ears and just about everything else. He still really did want to talk to Ling and see if he could get him to sleep, if just for a little while.

May waves her hand, as if trying to magically erase the potent tension from the air. It’s almost like she’s cooling a meal-- playing with the steam rising from it and shooing it away. It’s an attempt to grab everyone’s attention, and Ed knows that, pausing his brooding and looking up after a short moment.

“As I was saying, they did spill a few things when asked,” she started up again, and Ed’s lips pursed, “they specifically said that they know you’re coming, and that’s why they were sent here, whatever that means.”

“‘They’?” Al mouthed, pausing and blinking. May raised a brow, and Ed seemed to knit his own together. “So there’s more than one. _And_ they know we’re going to stop by.”

“So much for the element of surprise,” Ed sighed, drumming his fingers against his forearm. “Guess they really don’t want us going.”

“Right,” May chimes, “and I think it’s best that you bunch don’t go alone, whatever you’re doing. I don’t know much about any of this, and while I think we all deserve an explanation-- if anything, you need Lan Fan and I for backup. In case anyone gets seriously hurt, of course.”

Ed hesitates.

“Listen, squirt--” May’s face seems to pinch at that, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We don’t really know what we’re dealing with at face value, and you guys can get especially hurt if we aren’t careful.”

“So, we’ll be careful. And if you don’t _remember_ ,” Ed pauses as he’s cut off, and sighs-- running a hand over his hair, “I was the one to stop you all from hurting Scar back in Central, and you tailed after _me_ for weeks. Don’t underestimate me, or Lan Fan.”

“I’m not-- underestimating,” Ed sputters, and looks debated-- blinking owlishly as Alphonse nudges his arm. “I’m just. Worried.”

“Surprising,” Al snickers, “the world-renowned emotionally constipated Edward Elric admitting that he’s worried for someone. That’s new.”

Ed groans. Those words in particular feel like payback from all the teasing he’d done to Alphonse at the café a few days back.

“For real, though,” Alphonse continued, “they’re right. We need all the backup we can get in case someone gets seriously hurt.”

“And don’t _worry_ about us,” Lan Fan laughed, almost a hint bitter, “it’s never too much to have extra company. If anything else, we’ll outnumber them.”

“I _guess._ ” Ed sighs, tussling his hair and pursing his lips. “We’ll probably head over tomorrow night. I’d say to do it now and just barge right in to catch ‘em offguard, but I’m gonna see if I can get Ling to sleep. ‘M hungry, too.”

Ed simply decided to ignore the amused look Alphonse shot at him moments later.

\--

The inevitable countdown to tomorrow had begun, and Edward had begrudgingly realized that he wasn’t going to be able to get Ling to sleep quite yet.

Ed decided to get some breakfast-- lunch? Brunch? For both him _and_ Ling-- which he wasn’t sure was such a good idea in hindsight given how Ling was devouring the stuff at the moment. He was signing a bunch of papers prior, and Ed had gone on about getting some rest-- but his words just seemed to go through Ling’s head, only being responded with occasional hums, before he’d actually pulled the food out. Almost like a bargaining.

It was familiar. And also because _of course_ that’d be the only reason he snaps out of a stress-induced daze.

So here Ed stood, one hand resting on Ling’s desk-- leaning forwards and making eye contact while Ling gobbled some finger-food down. He simply hovered, and Ling paid no mind, avoiding signing any papers while his hands were possibly greasy. Maybe Ed should’ve just brought chopsticks.

“We’re goin’ over to the manor tomorrow night,” Ed sighed, straightening himself and fisting his hands into his pockets, “you don’t have any plans, right?”

“No,” Ling murmured, face-full of stodgy food-- and Ed could tell that he was very, very happy because of it. “--Well, that’s a half-lie, perhaps? It’s not that big of a deal for me to blow off any plans. I do need to stretch my legs as well, like you said.”

Ed pursed his lips, rolling his eyes as Ling popped another piece of fish into his mouth-- humming loudly as he did so. Despite being royalty, or whatever the hell, the dude ate like a damned pig.

“Whatever you say, I just…” Ed started, before trailing off, and shaking his head. “May and Lan Fan are coming too. Mostly for backup in case we need it and underestimate things, but. Feels weird, acting like this is all big n’ shit.”

“We’ve been through the almost-end-of-the-world and aborted it, Edward,” Ling droned, voice muffled as he swallowed down the last bite of his snack-- licking the leftover grease off of his fingers, resulting in a minor cringe from the alchemist beside him. “This is naturally a small-fry-- that’s what you say, right-- compared to then, don’t you think? We were teenagers. We didn’t have anything but that to look towards for six or so months.”

Ed turns his gaze back onto Ling, looking a hint wistful-- and he just… watched him for a few moments. As if he were analyzing him. Almost like he wanted to do something, but avoided it, because it was an extremely stupid thought.

“I guess not,” he muttered, “just like old times, right?”

“Yeah,” Ling’s voice quieted, “just like old times.”

\--

Dinner. They all had dinner together, that night.

Ed hadn’t even been here too long, not yet. It was kind of funny. He really hadn’t been here for more than a week or two, and it felt like things were coming to a damn close. Edward couldn’t figure out why, or even _recall_ why. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“You still owe me for all that room service,” the said alchemist chortled, shovelling a large piece of meat into his mouth as he spoke. It practically stretched his cheeks out, giving him the illusion of a chipmunk-- and May and Al giggled, off to the side. 

Ling, however, pouted.

“I thought this would _cover_ the room service,” he whined, seated beside Ed-- taking the host’s seat in the long table. He was smack in the middle of all of them, Ed and Al seated close to his right side-- May and Lan Fan to his left. Al sat beside Ed, May sat beside Lan Fan, and it was a whole big strange arrangement that made Ed’s head spin. He wasn’t even sure why the table was so damn long. No one else was really sitting here, but the seats were as comfortable as hell. “If you don’t appreciate my hospitality, I can kick you out.”

Ed knew he was joking, but he snorted derisively-- defensively clicking his chopsticks and inching them towards Ling’s food. Ling seemed to get even crosser, watching defenselessly as Ed snuck a little piece of octopus off his plate. He made a startled, accusing little noise, lips puffing out in a pout as Edward popped the food into his mouth.

“No, I appreciate it,” Ed snickered over a mouth-full of food, lips quirked upwards as best as they possibly could be, “still not enough for the mental toll it did on me, though.”

Ling squawks. “What mental toll?! I was _nothing_ but nice to you!”

“To be fair, your Imperial Majesty,” Lan Fan butted in, resting their chopsticks in her bowl, “--you tried to kill the Elric brothers at first sight. It was your order, I remember very clearly.”

“I wasn’t trying to _kill_ them,” Ling huffed, “I was just curious about the stone, and you wouldn’t tell me anything! I didn’t quite have a choice, you know.”

“Yeah, we didn’t say anything because you were gonna use it for _politics,_ ” Ed waved his chopsticks around in the air, shaky with a lack of experience in using them, “we barely even knew you. You technically still are, too. What’d you even do with the one you got?”

There was a pause, and Ling’s face seemed to grim. Ed blinked. _Al_ blinked, off to the side, like he hadn’t even come up with the idea of asking.

“I couldn’t actually bring myself to ingest it,” Ling murmured, and the two perked up. “Presenting the stone to my father was enough to make me the Emperor. I don’t know. I did want to be immortal, at a point, but--”

“--You wanted to grow old,” Al filled in, and Ling seemed to stiffen. His head turned, eyes squeezed shut; but he almost seemed to be staring back at them. 

Ed’s brows furrow, and he turns his gaze to his plate. Growing old, preferably with someone-- he wondered if he’d ever get to do that.

“I didn’t want to watch the people I love die anymore because of it,” Ling finished, voice stern and final. He set his chopsticks back onto his plate-- now empty, pushing it off to the side, and he seemed to take a moment to think. “The stone’s done enough harm. You were right about it. I decided to lock it away and give it to the Chang clan to put to good use, if ever needed.”

Edward watched the plate get pushed in front of him. He wasn’t quite sure if that’s all there was to it.

“Huh,” Ed muttered, shoulders bouncing as he spoke. He sounded almost _amused_ , eyebrows arching as he spoke back up. He could just barely see Ling staring him down in his periphery, and there was just-- _something_ about it. “Kind of nice of you, I guess. After all that.”

Ling seemed to relax, if just slightly. 

“I considered what I’d do with it once I gained the throne. I was officially crowned when I turned eighteen, though I was still considered the Emperor when the old one died.” Picking his chopsticks back up, Ling tapped them against Ed’s plate-- sneaking them forwards and grasping a chunk of chicken with ease. “I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I just know now that immortality isn’t something to be reckoned with.”

Ed snorts, and Ling perks-- as does Alphonse and notably May. It was essentially his turn to lift the mood, he decided, and the alchemist simply opted to flash a little smile at the Emperor himself.

“You sure act all wise for someone who still hasn’t paid me back for food I bought when I was fifteen.” 

“Excuse you,” Ling’s voice heightened, regaining its goofiness in a matter of moments. He sounded offended, really, although it was clearly all just for show. His chopsticks still rested on Ed’s plate, having not lifted his hand to actually eat yet. “Maybe I _am_ wise! If it’s money you want, I have plenty. Your stay here costs much more than the food I ate back then.”

“Forget about it,” while Ed rolled his eyes, Ling snuck his chopsticks up in the air-- quickly moving them in an attempt to drag it into his mouth. 

Ed, in all of his quick glory, was not happy with this-- jumping in place and leaning over the table in an attempt to steal the chicken back from Ling’s chopsticks. And he _nearly_ caught it in his mouth, too, mouth open and agape before Alphonse finally spoke back up.

“If you two are done bickering,” he sighed, “we can finally talk about what May taught me while you were gone, brother. Maybe it’d do you some good.”

Ed and Ling’s heads shot up, Ed’s mouth still agape and hovering over the chunk of chicken-- both looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Ed forced out, voice high as he regained his composure. He moved his way back to sit properly in his seat, brushing off his vest-- ignoring the way Ling hummed happily and took the stolen chicken for himself. “You kids tell me what you’ve been doing all this time. Not fair to keep it all to yourselves.”

May deadpanned. “I’d say you’re more of the child in this scenario with how you act, _Edward Elric_ ,” Ed’s eyes blinked open, lips twitching in their smile. “Lest you forget that I’m only four years younger than you.”

“That’s still _young!_ ” Ed hollered, crossing his arms and hunching over the table. Lan Fan stared carelessly as the dishware rattled, grabbing her goblet and preventing it from falling over with the jostling. Ling, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind-- still fawning over his chicken, while Al seemed to be quite used to scenarios similar to this. “Are you saying I’m a _baby?_ ”

“You’re very much the height of one,” was shot back in response, and Ed had the gall to wonder years later why tales of a “golden demon” were spread throughout Xing.

\--

“You sure seem to hang out in my bedroom a lot,” Ed snorts. “Shouldn’t you have your own? Thought Ling would’ve given you one, being here for god knows how long and all.”

“I do! _Excuse_ you,” Al laughs in response, happy and _healthy,_ and Ed shrugs on an airy shirt as he gets ready to sleep. It was a silken one, yellow and purple-- almost see through, the only opaque things attached to it being a golden sash that held it all together. It was barely even connected at both ends, stopping midway through his chest before the collar actually sloped together.

It was given to him by Ling a little while before he headed in. It was nice of him. Just nice. A nice gift in a nice gesture. Yeah.

Lifting the soft cloth to his face and giving it a quiet sniff, Edward recognized the smell-- particularly lavender and jasmine. He potently decided to ignore the look Al had given him moments later (he’d been doing a lot of that lately, and he still hadn’t figured out why)-- only whipping his head around and yelling out a _“what?”_

He wasn’t flustered. He wasn’t. But it smelled really, really nice. Like Ling. And the shirt was really, really big. It had to have been his before this. He was a little confused as to why the hell Ling would’ve given him one of his shirts, but he wasn’t… arguing. It was a really well-made shirt. Probably cost a hell of a lot of money.

The shirt was just baggy beyond being big in general. He could barely even tell that it was _on_ him, but that was probably just Ling’s style. All he did was go shirtless all of their teenage years, beyond the six months he was possessed by the living embodiment of one of the seven deadly sins. The sleeves only went to a little above his wrists, the ribbing on the inside clutching around them and giving off a pleasant itch-- but they were very big and puffy. Ed liked it a lot.

And he relaxed, before he lowered the shirt from his face. His eyes seemed to widen, yet he stayed silent.

_Oh_.

“Anyways,” Al drawled, and Ed ran a hand over his face. The candles plopped on the nightstands against the room’s walls flickered, reflecting across the warm, cherry oak. He wondered if they were only pleasantly warm-- like he could touch them, just like he had the bath a little while prior. Needless to say, he felt very, _very_ nice. “You should get some sleep, Ed. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

They were almost done with all of this, too. Finally.

“Yeah,” Ed murmured, glancing off to the long mirror set off to the side. Little droplets of precipitation lingered from his use of his own personal bath, but it was still clear to see-- and he could just barely make out Alphonse reflected in his line of view. He wasn’t used to seeing human Al. Grown up. Not a suit of armor, or not some little kid that waddled into his room every time he thought there were monsters in the hall. “Big day, I guess.”

There was a pause.

“Night, brother.”

“G’night, Al.”

And if Ed kept Ling’s shirt tucked up to his face while he dozed off, so what?

It was the best he would sleep for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> epic poggers mega cool fun facts for chapter 9 -
> 
> \- oh boy we're reaching the first climax.. i dont have very many fun facts for this one either! oopsies  
> \- "oh. Oh." trope is my favourite can u tell. this will not be the first time this happens /hj  
> \- holle went thru a Lot of names before i actually wrote it. it wasnt even supposed to be a fic originally!!! it was originally called the "dante arc" bc it was a thing i talked out with my bf that i thought would be cool happenign in a post-canon fixit. when i was naming it i mostly went thru german words and thats eventually what stuck? the closest name that came to beating hölle was 'marigolds'! that's why there's a lot of pointing to gold describing xingese architecture beyond the golden being thing  
> \- if you havent pieced it out together at all, hölle means hell in german. mostly went to german for cos parallels and to show that the fic's pretty much ed-centric  
> \- the shirt ed wears to bed is pretty similar to the robe ling wears at the end of mangahood colour and pattern-wise
> 
> also as promised i drew something for hölle getting 100 kudos!!! it's on my tumblr here -- go


	10. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And without thinking, two words left Ed’s lips, before he stalled his fist in the air all together: “Prove it.”
> 
> \--Edward began to wonder if he’d messed up in that moment, because something sinister crawled across their features. 
> 
> “As you wish.”
> 
> \-- 
> 
> ❗❕❔❓ - minor tws for implied disassociation near the end of the chapter, lightly described violence, character harm

Waking up that morning, everyone had essentially gone straight to work. Except Ling, really, who was most notably _avoiding_ his work, but that had went uncared for. 

“So, how are we going to get in?” Was the damning question from Ed, standing by Ling’s desk-- along with everyone else. 

They’d essentially decided at this point that Ling’s stupid little desk in his stupid little bedroom would be their little ragtag group meetup, sort of like their… what was it, base? Home base? Which was a little bit fun. All work and no play made Ling a very dull boy, in Edward’s humble opinion, and finally getting to do something-- something just a little bit meaningful-- meant something to Ed. Some sort of other wanderlust that he couldn’t put his finger on, nor been able to sate.

Maybe, through everything, he’d just wanted to be needed.

To Ed’s pleasant surprise, however (and essentially everyone else’s), Ling had gotten quite an impressive amount of sleep. He’d also eaten breakfast, which hopefully spelled out that he wouldn’t pass out in the middle of whatever they were doing-- although he didn’t doubt that Ling would need lunch and dinner and brunch and everything in between. 

The creases under Ling’s eyes still hadn’t entirely disappeared, though. 

It was pretty important for Edward to eat, too-- he’d almost had the same issue as Ling with passing out with a lack of food; albeit with a little more leniency. It’d been a little worse in his teenage years, where he essentially ate and ate and couldn’t _stop_ , but he knew now that it was more of a combination of not eating quite enough given he was both feeding Al _and_ himself and a mix of malnutrition because of that and his automail. He still had to work out the kinks with his leg and just-- forgetting to eat sometimes all together, which again, had sometimes happened in his teenage years with how he just… focused on studying and never noticed the time passing until it was too late.

Regardless and in conclusion, everyone had ate and slept and they were very, _very_ happy people. Albeit a little anxious. 

Ling had opted to wear something a little bit more open and baggy today (specifically a yellow button-up with flames embroidered on it, along with some creamy pants with that weird little sash Ed always thought looked a little difficult to manage), handing out the assumption that he still liked to wear all the airy clothes he had in his teenage years. Ed, once again, had been almost the polar opposite. He’d worn tight clothes, and oftentimes-- the stuff he wore had just been too big for him. Whether that inhibited him or not was up for debate.

May looked.. similar to Ling, which Edward thought was a little funny. Also simultaneously a little cute, given it was just a bit endearing-- wearing a little tank top and some pink, black, and white pants it tucked into that were too fancy for Ed to even comprehend. Alphonse was just Alphonse. Lan Fan was just Lan Fan. He was just himself. 

Ed buoyed back down to the planet as Ling tapped a black pen to his desk in response, looking contemplative for the split of a second. His eyes were squinted shut, lips closed in a tight and calculative frown-- looking more of an Emperor than he actually did himself. Whenever he spoke or smiled, though, it just threw the whole illusion off.

“We’ll go at the dead of night,” he began, causing Ed’s eyebrows to rise, “May, or Alphonse-- I don’t care which-- one of you should alchemize Edward some weapons. He doesn’t have alchemy on the fly like you two do.”

Alphonse nodded, and raised his hands-- preparing to speak. “I can do it,” he sighed, _smiling,_ “I’ve got a few ideas in mind.”

Ling simply turned his head for a moment in Alphonse’s general direction, almost looking as if he were staring without his own eyes open. After a moment, he bobbed his head, placing the pen to his lips in thought. 

“Alright.” He sighed. “May, Lan Fan-- as you’ve said before, you can be here for _mostly_ backup. Lan Fan can eliminate any outside intruders and anything of the sort. May, you can help with that. And if anyone gets hurt, like you said, you’re here to help.”

“I’ll survey the premises while you head in,” Lan Fan piped up, “May can check the woods, if she’d like. I’ll try and head in after I’m done with my duties.”

Ling, in response, simply hummed.

“Edward, Alphonse-- you two should follow me. We’ll sneak in from higher in the manor, and we can split up somewhere inside. You two should likely survey the upper level, while I can take the bottom floor. Then, we can rendezvous downstairs if everything goes right.”

“Alright. Foolproof plan,” Ed snorts, dismissive, “if they already know we’re comin’ in. They’ll probably be waiting, won’t they?”

Ling pauses-- before laughing, shoulders trembling with the movement, and shaking his head. 

“‘Shoot the horse, then shoot the general’, Ed,” Ling instructed, waggling a finger in front of Ed’s face as he rambled, “the whole point of surveying is to make sure we don’t have any distractions when we confront Dante. It shouldn’t even be that hard, given she seems to be an ordinary alchemist.”

Ed’s brows knit together, contemplative and doubtful. His fists ball as he leans on the table, lips pursed and twitching.

“Listen,” he said, after a moment, “the air is just kinda stagnant, you know? I feel like we’re undershooting this for once.”

“It’s going to be alright, Edward,” Ling sighs, inching his hand out to hover above Ed’s-- before freezing a moment and recoiling back. Ed almost cursed at that. “It’ll be fine. From what we know, Dante _does_ seem to have other allies, but we’ll likely outnumber them. Don’t worry too much.”

Ed halts in his place, blinking and faltering. For a moment, it almost looked like he wanted to do something, staring at Ling, watching him stare back-- before smiling and shaking his head. Almost in a mimic of what Ling had done moments prior.

“Yeah,” his voice quietened, “you’re right.”

\--

They did exactly what they were supposed to.

Getting to the manor was a long walk, once again. The path still twisted and turned, and Ed was practically proven right about it just being narrow enough to fit an entire group that resembled a family in count. Ed wasn’t even quite sure if they were going in the right direction at this point, with the way he kept bumping into bramble bushes that he had to pick off his pants, and the way Alphonse almost kept tripping over the roots of stray trees that encased the road. 

Shit, everyone else seemed just about as confused as himself, too.

“Are we going the right way?” May had whined, shoulders slumping. She’d wrapped a shoulder satchel around herself before they’d left, likely holding weapons and other supplies. “It feels like it’s been hours.”

“About thirty minutes on the road, particularly,” Lan Fan responded, “or at least-- that’s how long I’ve been counting.”

Ed could practically feel the way Ling’s eyes were rolling in the back of his head. 

“We had this same damn issue last time,” Ed groaned, ducking under a low branch-- swatting at the leaves that intruded. At least it hadn’t rained recently. He gestured a katar in his hand as he regained his posture. “Takes forever to get there. Don’t even know how people came to her-- thing can’t grow legs and walk, can it?”

“She’s an alchemist, right?” Ling breathed, sounding half-tired. Ed wondered if May kept any snacks in her bag. “Who knows. She could make them, if that’s possible.

Ed’s train of thought trailed off, leading him to blankly blink ahead as he thought the words through-- before nervously laughing with a hesitant smile.

“I don’t think that’s… right,” he chortled, “if it was, I probably would’ve remade my own damn leg years ago.”

Ling groans. “At least we know it hasn’t moved, then.”

Lan Fan and Alphonse continued to trail beside and behind them, completely unphased by their complaining. Lan Fan herself seemed to deadpan-- as she always did and probably forever would until her body gave out-- but Alphonse seemed a little impatient. The ranting was probably getting on his nerves.

“Dunno,” Ed grumbled, “kinda hard to see shit in the dark. Sure wasn’t that rough last time-- the place was lit up like the fuckin’ sun.”

Damn just about everyone except him for knowing where they were going. And not bumping into things. Alphonse still seemed a little bit rusty when it came to sensing chi, given the way he occasionally stumbled and spaced out.

A little while later-- Ed would claim it’d been hours-- _a few minutes_ later, the group had been faced with a large, towering manor. Just as big and fancy as it had been before. Ed himself hadn’t noticed his expression had gone just a hint solemn looking at it, before blinking and noticing that almost everything had gone completely and utterly quiet while everyone awed.

 _Hey,_ he thought, _maybe the reason we couldn’t fucking see it coming was because the lights were out this entire time._

“So this is the place,” Lan Fan murmured, keeping her voice hushed, “who could even afford this? It’s so secluded.”

“She probably _didn’t_ afford it,” May chimed in, “it looks alchemized, judging by the marks. If she’s alright with killing people, I doubt she’d care about transmuting gold-- illegal or not.”

“Takes a hell of a lot of energy to transmute an entire place, especially with this much detail,” Ed awed, “didn’t really care about it that much before, but hot _damn_.”

“It doesn’t rival the palace,” Ling murmured, knocking a knuckle against the wood of the tree he’d ducked behind. “That gold’s all genuine. It took years for our ancestors to make Jīnsè the capital it is today.”

“Kind of like Xenotime,” Ed breathed, “town thrived off of gold, went to shit when they couldn’t make it anymore. Everyone there got sick because of this red water stuff me and Al looked into for a little while.”

“Oh, yeah!” Al piped up, voice lightening, “I remember that. That was a long time ago.”

Alphonse laughs, before forcing himself quiet. There’s an interlude of complete and utter silence for everyone, tension building before it becomes unbearable-- before Ed sighs and waves a katar in the air. May groans.

“If we’re done standing here, we should actually survey the manor,” she grumbled, “I’m going to check the woods as told. Lan Fan, check for people on the outside like you’re supposed to. Do whatever the rest of you need to do.”

Lan Fan pauses-- before nodding and wandering off, following May as they disappear into the foliage of the woods. Ling, Edward, And Alphonse wait as they listen to their footsteps recede-- before quickly groaning and slumping against their respective trees.

“Ugh, do we _have_ to do this?” Ed groaned, gaining an insistent calling of his name from Al.

“Al-- y’know what, you go first. You’re the youngest,” Edward rushed out, voice heightening a few pitches as he shoved Alphonse into the opening by the shoulders. He grinned shakily, gesturing with his hands to go forwards. Al sputters as he stumbles, regaining his balance onto the grass, and turns to Ed as he’s shooed.

“Yeah,” Ling laughs, voice shaking, “I’m the Emperor-- if I die, it’s your fault. The country falls into shambles. Therefore, I need the protection of a _very_ strong alchemist ahead of me.”

“Big fuckin’ baby,” Ed snorts, “you’ve got a sword. Get hurt, stab someone.”

“You wouldn’t want me to _stab_ someone,” Ling whines, “I’m being considerate for you!”

Ed blinks, brows raised. He almost looks unamused-- and Alphonse seethes before them.

“--Whatever,” Edward sputters, and Alphonse simply stares-- before yelping as his ankle gets kicked by Ling-- resulting in him hopping forward, “get goin’, Alphonse. We’re following you.”

“I _hate_ you guys,” Alphonse whines, trudging forwards; probably mourning his now sore ankle, “despise you, even. It’s so dark out, I can barely see--”

“If you bump into something, just ask me for directions,” Ling whispers. “I can tell where I’m going. The flow of around chi here is--”

Ling quickly trails off, eyes slitting open. He takes a moment to freeze and blink, resulting in Edward cocking a brow and nudging him.

“..Odd,” Ling resumes, eyes squinting back shut at the nudge, “there’s.. a lot of people in there.”

“What?” Ed murmured, voice panicked and hushed. “The hell are you talking about? What the hell’s goin’ on in there?”

“Their chi are… abnormal,” Ling muttered, face scrunching, “there’s.. so many of them. They’re all coiled into one place. I can’t tell how many are actually in there, or if they’re real or not.”

“Perfect,” Ed gritted out, brows knitting together as he stumbled out of the clearing and stepped behind Alphonse, “so your freaky ninja senses are fucked?”

Edward hears Alphonse snort ahead of them as he feels up the walls and windows of the manor, clearly trying to find an opening. He watches as he looks up, trying to find a good entryway point-- and he hears Ling start trailing behind them, footsteps uneven and hesitant with each light touch to the grass.

“Apt way of putting it,” Ling grimaced, lips set into a frown, “Lan Fan and May probably sense it as well. It’s like they’re trying to mask something, almost. It’s familiar, but it’s not quite something I’ve felt before.”

“Yeah,” Alphonse blinks, “it does feel a little weird, doesn’t it? Guess they really knew we were coming.”

Ed snorts, gesturing towards Ling with a hand. His lips are quirked upwards as he anxiously massages the leather grips of his katars-- not quite a perfect material for holding. He purses his lips after a moment, and pauses.

“..Hey,” Ed started, voice almost hesitant, “stupid question, but what even is reading chi like, anyways? Is it like-- an individual person thing, or--?”

“Essentially,” Ling sighs, “some people have stronger chi than others. It’s almost like tasting things. If they have a stronger chi, you can feel them better. That also applies when they get closer and closer to you. Every person has a distinct _chi,_ and a sort of distinct warmth or taste. It’s usually sour if they have ill intent.”

Ed blinks, looking as if he were hanging onto every word of the explanation-- although he can feel the words practically going straight through his skull. Al simply grins a little as he listens, eyes squinting as they try to adjust to the dark. 

Ling seems to notice that Ed has no damn clue what he’s talking about.

“--You can sense multiple at once,” he continues, “like how I’m able to tell they’re coiling inside. Your chi is pretty warm-- although I don’t necessarily know how to describe it. Same goes for Alphonse, but I’m well-accustomed with both of yours.”

Edward lets out a soft little ‘huh’, pleasantly surprised. Still wasn’t quite sure if he knew any of what that meant, though. Would’ve been nice if he could actually figure out how to read the damn things, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Truth just barred him from using it at all.

“Hey,” Alphonse murmurs and gestures at a higher up window, making Ed’s little bubble of thought practically burst into a million pieces, “up here. I’m gonna make a ladder so we can go in through there-- the windowsill looks a little easier to step on than the others.”

Ed nods, and squints his eyes as Alphonse claps-- soon after pressing his hands to the wall and sparking stray crackles of blue electricity from it. A golden ladder formed from the barrier, nice and neat, although alchemic marks lined and chipped where a little bit of the wall had thinned. 

Ed’s hair stands on end at the sudden electricity humming through the air-- the resounding metallic ringing noise from the clap still echoing in his ears. There’s a soft rustling in a nearby bush that makes Ling jump, and he hurriedly gestures Ed forward.

“Hurry, now,” Ling huffed, “we have to be quick.”

Edward blinks, and nods. He starts ascending the ladder first after shifting his katars into one hand, stopping midway and turning his back to Alphonse. He heightens his volume a peg as he begins speaking, face pinched and serious.

“We’re gonna have to try not to use that often,” he announces, “can’t figure out a way to hide the reaction.”

As Alphonse nods, Ed resumes climbing the ladder. He stops at the long, paneless window, attempting to peer inside it-- before flinching back and realizing that it’s draped over with velvety curtains. Ed blinks, thinking-- before pausing and rolling up his left sleeve with a heavy sigh. Ling and Alphonse watch from below with heightened curiously, starting to climb behind him-- and Ed gives one last glance to the window before he starts knocking the glass in.

Ed can practically feel the collective grimace they all share as they hear the shatter and loud peppering the pieces make as they hit the floor, elbow taking each brunt of the hit as Edward attempts to knock the corners in. After a moment, he sighs, rolling his right sleeve up and taking that as a satisfactory break-in attempt.

The alchemist turns around for a moment, lips pursed tightly, lips shakily quirking upwards at the unamused response he received from both men. His head quickly turns back, ponytail whipping with it, before he hikes his flesh leg over his hip-- tapping at the floor with his foot to check for the distance.

“Storage room,” Ed murmurs as he pulls back the curtains with one hand, other gripping the ladder, “doesn’t look like there’s anyone in it. C’mon.”

He took a moment to pause and scrutinize the room beforehand, eyes squinting as he made out a few oaken chests, bookshelves, and lavish couches and books scattered around. As he attempted to hoist his other leg into the room, he noticed a few other antiques-- before jolting and hissing as the skin of his cheek caught on a shard of glass. Trying to pull away from it, Ed felt the skin drag and eventually give as it passed the shard-- a deep cut now lining and rushing the blood to his cheek.

Stumbling and hobbling into the room half on one foot, Ed continued to let out another little hiss, pressing his thumb to his cheek and swiping at it. A red colouring stained the sun-kissed skin, and Ed turned around, blinking as Alphonse’s voice quickly boomed behind him.

“You alright?” Ed just barely processed hearing as he stared at his thumb, before sighing and rubbing the smear off on his vest. He could still feel the laceration gathering blood, but it wasn’t that major.

“Yeah,” Edward sighed, flicking his hand and giving it a little shake, “just peachy.”

As Ed stepped further into the room, Alphonse and Ling carefully moved through the window in tow-- going completely uncut in contrast. Ed took a moment to skim his eyes over the antiques once more, eyes narrowing. Didn’t make sense for someone this young to have all this old shit, unless they were hand-me-downs.

Ling, unbeknownst to Edward, sent a little sympathetic gaze towards the shards of glass on the floor-- carefully stepping over them with every little move he made on his flats.

Alphonse sent a sparing glance to the cut on Ed’s cheek, almost in a silent question-- resulting in Ed turning his head and simply _sighing._ He nodded, before waving his hand in the air-- stepping off to the side and landing his gaze on one of the bookshelves.

“Might wanna stay in here for a little bit and see if they’re comin’,” he hummed, “might find somethin’ interesting in here, too.”

Ed lifted a stray book off of the shelf, dusting off the cover and scanning his eyes over the front contents. It didn’t look to be Xingese or Amestrian at all, he assessed, opening the book. It seemed to be old as well, judging by the yellowed pages once he popped the front open-- only to recoil as he thumbed a finger over one. His fingers drug against the material, eyes furrowing together, trying to figure out what the hell it felt like. It didn’t feel like paper or parchment, but--

“Skin,” Ed gagged, “the book’s made of human skin.”

Tossing the book off to the side carelessly with a loud, satisfying ‘thud’, Alphonse winced. Ed couldn’t tell if it was because of the material or simply the sound, but Ling quietly shuffled over, gingerly picking it up and carding his fingers through the pages.

“Could be best to either keep these or burn these,” he hummed thoughtfully, “I don’t even know where she might have obtained these, but they seem good to preserve.”

“I’d rather not spend my time in the palace knowing there’s a book made of skin somewhere in the library,” Ed snorted derisively. “I still gotta check that place out later.”

Ling sighs, carefully placing the book back down on a chest. He rubbed his hands back onto his pants, simply as if dusting them off-- completely unperturbed. Edward stares.

Al blinks-- before pausing and deciding to wander around. Taking their place in Alphonse’s footsteps, Ed and Ling decide to look through everything for a little while, seemingly finding nothing. Just a lot of books and trinkets. There were some old alchemic research papers and some shiny objects (mostly rocks and expensive-looking gems) that Ed had the urge to snatch, but overall nothing too important. 

“Nothin’,” Ed stood from his crouching position near a couch, tussling his hair as he did so. “Probably hiding all the good stuff.”

“Might be best to actually start surveying now,” Ling sighs, “again, we’ll split up. I’ll stop by downstairs, you take out anyone up here.”

Alphonse nods, and trails off. He shuffles to the door-- opening it just a crack, _slowly_ and _gently,_ and peeking out-- Ed trailing behind.

It was.. almost completely dark. The regular gold was devoured and blanketed in shades of blue and purple, and the obnoxious looping music that’d driven Ed practically insane was nowhere to be found. It was easier to see in here-- mostly with the moonlight shining in through the cracks of each mostly-covered window. It was quiet. Too quiet, and Alphonse opened the door with a resounding and echoing _creak._

Ed breathes.

“If they know we’re here, they might’ve just left,” Al offered, voice soft and questioning. “Might not want to fight back. Probably a good option to leave, at least until things boil over.”

“That wouldn’t make sense, though.” Ling murmured, walking ahead and shoving past the brothers. “There’s _people_ here. I can feel them.”

“Hey, your ‘chi shit’ is kinda fucked right now, ain’t it?” Ed sighed, reaching ahead and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Could’ve been a distraction to keep us away.”

Ling frowns.

Stepping out, Ed and Al swivel their heads around the open area-- Ling opening his eyes a crick. He makes a moment’s eye contact with Ed, before nodding and quickly descending the stairs-- hugging the banister in a crouch.

“Alright,” Ed whispered, “let’s split up. Makes things quicker.”

\--

...The fact that there wasn’t much of anything at all in the manor-- this stupidly accursed place-- made Ling just a little bit suspicious.

He’d practically checked just about every room now, nearing _some_ furling and unfurling mass of chi, but never getting quite close enough to make contact with it. Tangy. Sour. Both warm and cold. He was so _damn_ close it made his _hair_ stand on end-- the dry and dull air sloshing and uneven, yet somehow tingling with electricity. Nothing.

Al-- Alphonse had come up with the hypothesis that maybe they’d all just up and left, but it wouldn’t make sense. You couldn’t just… form chi like that. Make something out of nothing, or mask it entirely. Hell, even _mangle_ it the way it had been done at the moment. Maybe if he’d paid more attention the night he’d almost been assassinated, he would’ve noticed the chi he was feeling out now and the one he would’ve been feeling then had felt almost the same.

It didn’t make sense. Not to him. Not in any logical sense of how he’d been taught the generational practice since he could walk. And it bothered him so much. It felt so familiar, yet so _different_ at the same time. Imperfect and twisted. Confused. 

So when he entered the last room-- the room the closest to that ball of chi, the last to check, the _last_ to quite possibly have anything in it-- he was surprised when there was. Nothing. Just nothing. 

Completely and utterly nothing. Just a bunch of shadow-covered seats, and what looked to be primitive kitchen appliances. A burning smell of tea and some other sweet pastry lingering in the air. But he was so close. Because he’d _almost_ reached that itch, and he was still tittering over the feeling of _something_ being there, but there wasn’t anything. Not a damn thing.

So he was surprised when something had grabbed him from behind.

\--

Ed and Al wouldn’t be doing much better on their end, not really.

Ed had bothered to go through countless rooms consisting of what only looked like too many studies for a regular human being-- almost a paradise, if it hadn’t belonged to such a foul person. Edward had wasted most of his time skimming through books at this point, just vaguely processing some new alchemic circles and practices in the back of his mind that he’d probably soon forget once he left. He almost drowned out the sound of anything in the background entirely, focusing completely and utterly on the pages under his fingertips.

“Would’ve been nice if I brought a bag,” Ed chuckled to himself, “kind of have the urge to take all this shit.”

Jumping harshly as heavy steps hastily approached the door, Ed’s eyes widened-- tossing the book onto the floor and watching it slide before scampering over to the desk he’d dropped his katars on prior, raising them and gripping them in his hands. He pressed his back to a bookshelf, which in of its own was unsturdy and heavy-- cursing lightly under his breath as it creaked back and forth with his weight.

The door shook against its frame, and the knob rattled, back and forth. Ed readied himself, hands balling and uncurling in repetitive motions around the uneven leather that made for slightly uncomfortable handles. 

The door opened.

\--

Ling still wasn’t quite sure what the hell had grabbed him, even after the few minutes he’d been struggling at this point. Or, at least, in his case-- it’d felt like minutes. It could have been only seconds.

What Ling _did_ know, though, was that he had quickly unsheathed his dao-- lifting it from his belt holster hooked around his shoulder, whipping around towards the direction of his attacker and slicing at air aimlessly. It _had_ to have been the source of that mangled mass of chi, judging by the way it moved in sync-- uneven and unsure, but with malicious intent.

Only when he felt _something_ hit and watch someone stumble into the moonlight of the window for what felt like the thousandth time did he blink, watching the bright red crackle of the tell-tale signs of a homunculus healing light up its features in an electric glow. He could barely even make out anything around him if he opened his eyes, the silhouettes of appliances here and there still scattered everywhere. 

Pale skin. Light chestnut hair. Blue eyes that almost looked teal with the way the light shone. But their hair was curly, and thus hadn’t alarmed Ling in the slightest. Their features were sharp. But they moved slowly, as if heavy and weighed down.

But they were similar to someone. And so, so familiar.

“You don’t disappoint, Mr. Emperor--” is what he was at least sure they said, judging by the rushed Amestrian translation his mind provided for him as he breathed, _panicking,_ “we can’t have you wandering around here.”

His hand suddenly felt damp.

\--

Alphonse wasn’t quite sure what he expected when he opened the door towards the last-- and only room Ed could be in, but it wasn’t necessarily said brother in question shouting bloody murder and charging at him.

Ed wasn’t good at planning or hiding, and Alphonse knew that. _And_ he was always easy to predict, height or not, and it showed with the way he was able to-- with minimal thinking-- sweep a quick and panicked foot under Ed’s ankles as he approached, the alchemist making a startled noise as he fell, head hitting the creaky wood floor before the rest of his body.

“It’s me,” Al rushed out, voice quiet but urgent-- and Ed rolled over the floor and onto his side-- groaning as he felt dust hit the exposed yet clotted cut on his cheek. 

“Fuckin’ _shit,_ ” Ed hissed, eyes squeezed shut as he willed himself to sit up beyond the constant ache his body now so-helpfully provided. “Tell me when you open a damn _door_ next time, Alphonse! Maybe _knock_?”

“I don’t need to introduce myself every time I open a door, brother.” Al sighed, face neutral and ignorant of his pain, and Ed shook his head as he forced himself to stand. “Learn how to be more quiet when you snoop around.”

Ed gave him a scalding, clearly unpleased look, cautiously rubbing the back of his head where he fell with a hint of wistfulness. Alphonse sighed, pitiless and seemingly fed up, before blinking and fishing in his pocket for a note. It was almost like a lightbulb had gone off in his mind.

“Oh, yeah-- I finished my walk around. I didn’t find anything. I figured I could come find you, but I found this,” he muttered, dropping the note into Ed’s quickly exposed hand as soon as he dug it out with a little _‘aha’_. “Read it.”

Blinking, Ed hesitantly and slowly moved his bare hand-- now devoid of any katar, having clattered to the side and lost in the fall-- to open up the folded parchment and scan his eyes over it, but not before giving him another disapproving look.

“..‘ _Seller_ \-- Jian’. No last name.” Ed paused, handing it back over to Alphonse. “The hell’s this for?”

“I don’t know,” Al shrugged, shoving the note back into his pocket, “but I found it and thought it could be important. Apparently, she’s selling things, but I don’t know what it could be.”

“Perfect,” Ed mumbled, just a hint of annoyance lacing his voice, “now we have even more questions than answers.”

The brothers turned their heads as something clattered from afar.

\--

“You’re Mila Hampton’s mother, aren’t you?” Ling gritted, watching as his dao was pulled from his hand. Ling couldn’t tell what had even grabbed it, necessarily. Something wet and almost elastic-like-- but easy to phase through, like water. Or that weird yellow jelly Lan Fan always liked. Solid, but liquid. He’d have to ask Edward about that existing later.

“Not quite.” The woman sighed, and Ling watched her hand shift into something more normal. He watched her drag open the curtains, shedding more light-- and he could tell that she seemed to be wearing a white, lacy dress. “I’m supposed to be, really. A shame the old one died of lockjaw. I had some really nice memories.”

The dao was now held in her hands, being rolled back and forth as the blade flipped. She seemed to examine it-- turning it left and right and looking almost awed as she stared, like she hadn’t seen something similar to it before.

“Lady Dante calls me a homunculus,” she started, still sounding awed-- before waving the weapon in the air, “she says that should ring a bell for you, dear.”

“A bell,” Ling laughed, voice bitter and strained, “yes. It does.”

Her eyebrows arched as she watched him seethe in place-- looking as if he were contemplating his next move. Ling’s gaze turned towards the ground, then the side-- and he paused, and the woman seemed to laxen her posture.

“It’d be best if you just thought to not fight back,” she sighed, “left in peace. I don’t think any of us want to fight. --Well.”

She paused, cutting herself off midway; seemingly thinking, and Ling’s head lifted-- thoroughly throttled in his thoughts and thinking. _Us._ That would explain the mass amounts of chi, curling and unfurling as she continued on. 

“That might be a lie,” she tilted her head, gesturing the dao off to the side. “I know one of us is quite fond of it. Never really asked the man though.”

“So there’s more of you,” Ling murmured, “that’s…”

“Unfortunate, I suppose,” she sighed, dropping the dao to her side, “why? Death is a tragedy. If there’s someone you’ve lost, you would surely be useful to our cause. A friend, a lover-- maybe even a parent of some sort.”

Without hesitation, Ling charged forwards.

\--

“What the _hell_ even was that?” Was the first, _very_ loud thing to escape Ed’s lips as they practically bursted out of the room, down the stairs, and _just_ began to process the heavy thudding of… some sort of commotion.

Not long after the loud, resounding sound made by.. something, Ed wasn’t quite sure who could’ve made it, the brothers decided to scope things out. It wasn’t on the top floor. So it was probably involved with Ling. Somehow. Alphonse had nearly opened and closed every door, quick and careless-- the doors having been placed side by side, on almost all four sides of the main area of the manor-- enclosed around them like a colosseum. 

“I don’t know,” Al’s voice had stopped attempting to be hushed, panicked and almost concerned-- “listen, Ling’s got to be somewhere--”

“What doors _haven’t_ we checked?”

Ed blinked, head darting here and there. God. _God_ , he wondered how Lan Fan and May were faring. Where they even were. If there were any issues outside. Maybe they could tell what was going on with whatever masses of chi were moving around just like Ling mentioned, and were coming to help.

But that was a really naïve hope.

After a moment-- “ _There_ ,” Ed breathed, gesturing to a stray door-- hidden and tucked into a corner. It rested under the balcony that left the second floor open, and _fuck_ Ed wasn’t quite sure if they had even checked there yet but he was _willing_ to check again if they _had_ . Because if there _was_ something going wrong, and if there _was_ an ambush, he couldn’t lose--

\--And then the door opened. Quite forcefully, actually, and Ed stumbled (almost hobbled) to the side as Ling-- or so he assumed, judging by the yellow clothing-- skidded backwards and away. And something-- someone was coming out from the door. Into the blue-ish light, just to be barely visible amongst the minor commotion.

And Ed’s mind _reeled_.

“You’re… you’re Mila Hampton’s mother,” he whispered, lungs seemingly devoid of any air.

“We’re having this conversation again, I see,” the newcomer sighed, voice deep and sympathetic, “you must be that ‘Mr. Edward’ my little girl told me about.”

Ed blinked. Once. Twice.

“She mentioned you a lot before I drowned her, really.” Alphonse, subtly watching this from afar, tensed-- and Ling, balled up on the ground and struggling to get up, groaned. “Surprisingly quiet, afterwards but she seemed so convinced that you’d be able to swing by and stop--”

“Shut _up_ ,” Ed gritted through his teeth, jolting forwards, “shut your _fucking_ mouth--”

“Stop,” a booming voice declared from afar, “at ease.”

A familiar voice, Ed was able to note, had spoken-- immediately resulting in him stopping in place and feeling his head turn of its own accord. He _felt_ and probably _looked_ completely and utterly disgusted and frustrated. The tip of one of eyebrows (he wasn’t quite sure which) seemed to twitch, and Alphonse shuffled closer to Ed-- Ling jumping and turning his head at the voice. The lights-- the lights, somehow, they flickered on-- and that music. That fucking music. 

“ _You,_ ” he breathed, mind filled with _static_ and ears stuffed with _cotton,_ “you fucking _bitch_ \--”

Dante only seemed to snort, fair hands folded in front of the dress she’d been wearing. A lot more extravagant than what she’d worn during their last meeting-- a whole gown it was now in of its own, probably one suited for a ball. It was frilly, purple, yellow-- and she had a few necklaces layered on top of each other. She almost looked like she’d prepared for this, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise.

Of course she had to prim and prep herself for a confrontation.

“It’s nice to see you too, son of Hohenheim.” And fuck-- _fuck_ , she just _smiled_ at him. And Ed-- Ed _hated_ the way she did that. It wasn’t all the way there. It was a damn act, and she _knew_ what she was doing-- confident, knowing, _smug,_ and-- god. Putting it all to hell, Edward was damn _furious_.

Ling’s eyes-- they were wide open. And he simply stood back up, wobbling and shaking a bit as he did so, making a strangled little noise as he struggled-- clothes looking heavy and damp. Ed paused in his frustration to turn his head, blinking and feeling just a hitch concerned. He almost moved to help him up entirely, too, but Ling held up a hand-- almost as if to tell him that he was alright. Which was exactly what it was for.

“You wanted to ask me questions, didn’t you?” Dante clasped her hands, shifting the spotlight back onto herself, and Ed had _just_ bothered to notice that she’d entered the room entirely-- having entered from an opposing hall. Someone-- _something_ , Ed’s mind unhelpfully provided, towered behind her-- long black hair pulled up into a bun, and.

He looked. Familiar.

“I have plenty of time now,” she said, voice echoing and firm, “I’m sure you have many things to ask me.”

“Why?” Was the first thing that left Alphonse’s mouth, before anyone else-- and Ed’s head turned. If Ed had been able to take his eyes off of the people in front of him and look back, he would’ve seen Ling doing the same.

And Dante.. seemed to pause. Stop entirely. Like she’d been asked an almost private question, but she sighed, shoulders slumping with a smile. Like the question was an inevitability. And her mouth opened quickly-- almost like she’d rehearsed. The man behind her kept his eyes closed, hands folded behind his back, staring down at the floor.

Ling seemed like he couldn’t decide which one to lock his eyes on.

“I was curious, mainly,” she began, “as you probably know, I worked as an alchemist in Ishval. I was nearing my older years, and when that summer epidemic came around-- the one that killed your mother, I’ve heard, I caught it as well. I went to Xing in some desperate attempt to get cured-- as I was familiar with the practice. But there wasn’t one.”

The manor seemed to spin in Edward’s mind. It might’ve been the anger clouding his senses, or just the way it was all laid out, maybe even the colours-- or it could’ve been the music he hated with every fiber of his being. 

“I took some stones from a man called Tim Marcoh before I left. After realising there wasn’t a cure-- I looked into alternative solutions,” she continued, “such as a taboo skin alchemy. It isn’t quite illegal in Amestris, as it’s mainly unheard of. But it is in Creta. Two copies of a book talking about it were made. One in Amestrian, and one in the Cretian language. The latter is the original. After reading it, I realized I could use the stone to exchange body parts with someone else equivalently without killing the host instantly, and keeping the soul attached to their body. It’s quite convenient, but it isn’t necessarily perfect.”

“So that’s what that damn thing was in the storage room,” Ed grumbled, “and the other copy-- that’s probably the one Mustang had.”

“I’ve never seen the other book talking about it,” Dante murmured, “it probably is. I wouldn’t be surprised that the military dogs would’ve gotten their hands on the translated version. I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, or what you might have picked up. The experience itself isn’t without its pains or inconveniences, as I’ve mentioned. It might not help that I haven’t been using the real article-- and it’s been progressively destroying this body I use as you see it.”

“So how?” Al piped in, “How do you even keep doing it? How _did_ you even do it? Why?”

“Because I _wanted_ to,” Dante responded, voice flat and relentless. “I was desperate. Old. I was scared of dying. I invited a girl over for tea that’d been working on my garden for a few months, just a few weeks before I was due to pass-- the body you see here-- and used that alchemy on her. Being forced into the back of your own mind like a parasite during the process is shattering, I would assume.”

“So I’m going to take a hot guess that you make the stones every time you try to bring a person back to life,” Ed laughed, voice shaking and hollow, “you use them by making the person a homunculus-- a living doll without a real soul of its own, and you get one or more in return by killing the people. Equivalent exchange, right?”

“Equivalent exchange is the balance our world runs on, but sometimes it’s not quite fair.” Shrugging her shoulders, Dante’s lips pursed, purple gown bobbing with the action. “They asked for the impossible, and they got the seemingly impossible in return. You never think about death until you come close to it, do you?”

The brothers tensed, and Ed’s head lowered, staring at the floor with fervor. His fists balled and clenched, and dropped at his sides in a repetitive cycle.

“A life is inequivalent to anything in this world, but can be easily traded. You two seemingly never seemed to notice that.” Lifting a finger, Dante smiled. “With the right tools, you could’ve brought your mother back like everyone knows you now attempted. Not quite completely, but your morals kept that from happening. And to achieve your goals, you have to be prepared to throw your morals away. Almost like the Emperor over there.”

Ed’s head lifted, and slowly turned to Ling-- brows crossed into something confused. His lips were just a hint parted, and Ling’s own pursed-- standing in place and clutching at his chest as his gaze flickered between the alchemist and Dante.

“Being the Emperor-- it takes a lot of sacrifices, I’m sure. Especially to get there.” Lowering her hands to fold in front of her chest, Ling’s gaze narrowed. “Growing up in a ‘kill-or-be-killed’ environment where you can’t trust anybody makes you force your hand sometimes, doesn’t it?”

And Ling-- Ling just.. looked _down_. Ed blinked, eyes owlish and startled. No rebuttal? Nothing? Not a _single_ bit of defense?

“Humans are such foolish creatures,” Dante sighed, “pity, _love--_ unneeded things to be discarded. They make you do idiotic things.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Al piped up, “you’re one too!”

And for a moment there was complete, and utter silence, the room’s eyes shifting back towards the woman ahead.

“Not anymore.”

Ed stared, gaze blank and confused-- before Ling walked to his side and nudged at him. Ed, turning his head, watched as Ling pointed at the suited man and leant into his ear-- Ed’s cheeks just a hint flushed as he did so.

“I know him,” Ling murmured, just barely audible, “he’s one of my councilmen, too.”

Ed blinked, and Al turned his head-- looking curious. Ed leant closer, voice aggressive and hushed-- while the homunculus behind them seemingly began to stride away from them and towards Dante.

“Why the _hell_ are there so many _damn homunculi_ on your council?” He snarled, and Ling sighed, drooping. “Start doin’ fucking resume checks!”

Al simply rolled his eyes, unbeknownst to the two of them. In a mirror action of Ling’s own prior, he elbows Ed, and both Edward and Ling’s heads snap back towards Dante. Both homunculi are gathered at her sides, and Edward.. pauses. That doesn’t bode well, in the back of his mind, as the mood shifts.

“Was that all that you needed to know?” Dante murmurs, voice notably quieter than usual. Edward blinks, head turning side to side, before--

“I.. _guess_ ,” he sputters, arms tensing at their sides.

“--And I’m assuming you don’t plan on letting us go,” she continued, resulting in Edward’s lips pursing together. “I can tell that you have backup outside. I feel their chi.”

“Not particularly,” Alphonse cocked his head, raising his brows. She _could_ sense chi, then. Even if they _would_ have tried to sneak in, it would have been as hard as hell. Ling grimaced.

“So be it, then,” she sighed, eyes closing and hands falling to her sides. And she simply.. waved her hand, before turning her back.

“You two-- kill them. I’ll be waiting in my chambers. Just make sure to bring their bodies back.”

“ _\--What?_ ” Was the only word that left Ed’s mouth, and the only word that immediately came to mind, quick and panicked. _Loud_. Dante herself didn’t seem to care, only walking away, gown bouncing and swishing to and fro with every careful and calculated step. 

Both Ling and Alphonse seemed alarmed as well, unsurprisingly-- judging by the way Ed glanced towards them when he turned his head both ways. The two homunculi in front of them simply… stood, before--

 _\--running_.

With a startled noise, all three men took a moment to pause and assess-- before stalling and running in different directions. Ed ran southeast, and Alphonse and Ling ran in the completely opposite direction-- northwest. 

The man in the black hair quickly trailed after Ed, footsteps heavy and yet _concerningly_ quick, and he reached to--.. oh. _Oh._ Oh, _fuck_ , he’d left his katars in the room he’d met up with Alphonse, hadn’t he? _Shit._

Alphonse, too, seemed to notice this-- jolting on his own end as he snapped back into reality, head whipping over with wide eyes. Edward swallows as he skids to a harsh stop on the tile, brows knitted together as he stood. 

“I’ll be fine,” he yells, voice echoing across the room, “you and Ling take care of the Mom!”

Alphonse purses his lips, pausing and taking the command in, before nodding and turning back to his own little situation. Ed _yelps_ as he’s suddenly sliced at, eyes widening before spotting out a damned _blade_ attached to the shapeshifter’s arm. After a moment, it seemed to crackle as it retracted back into a normal arm, resulting in Edward quickly taking a step back and propelling himself into the air and back onto his feet to make distance.

“You can-- shapeshift,” he laughs, landing back on the ground, “oh, _god_. Deja vu.”

“Afraid of a few parlor tricks, sweetheart?” The man coos, and Ed grimaced. The man seemed to notice the way he winced, with the way he quickly cocked his head and gave him just a hint of a smile.

“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me before you kill me,” the alchemist groaned, gasping as he ducked below another slice aimed at his head. “Doesn’t make for good banter.”

“ _Mmh_ ,” he hums, pausing and stepping back a few tiles before waving his-- once again-- newly transformed arm in the air, taking a moment to let it construct. “I think it’s funny. I like the way you squirm.”

“ _Really?"_ Ed laughed, golden eyes darting towards the side, gaze landing on Ling and Alphonse. They didn’t seem to be faring much better than he was, narrowly avoiding each grab of what looked to be long tendrils in Ed’s eyes. Almost sort of like.. _water_. Ling seemed to have gotten his dao back, and Ed blinked at the sight. _Water_. Explains why he was soaked earlier.

“Yes, well,” his combatant hums, tapping a finger against his lips with a twang to his voice, “it depends on the person. Some aren’t as easy to manipulate.”

Ed blinks, a brow cocking-- and the man seemed to take that as permission to do.. _something_. He almost looked as if he lit up, too, before a red light enveloped their body-- crackling and spreading from the tip of their toes to the crown of their head. Ed _stared_ , eyes owlish and blinking, watching as they deconstructed and reconstructed, before quickly taking in the fact that beige pants and a blue sweater vest-- and most notably a dark golden mop of hair-- had materialized in front of him.

“Makes things a little bit harder, doesn’t it?” He giggled, leaning forwards with his hands on his lap. “Easy to hesitate when I’m like this. It’s interesting to watch you _react_ \--”

The shifter punctuated the last word in their sentence with charging back forwards, Ed faltering before he managed to move out of the way. He fell to the floor on sheer instinct, quickly rolling off to the side, eyes wide and curious. But just a _hitch_ awed. Because _one--_ that was a lot to take in. _Two--_ holy fucking shit.

“Of course,” he grumbled, brows knitting together-- face being plundered with a decadent smile as he stood himself back upwards. 

“ _\--Brother?_ ” Al had shouted from afar, and when Ed turned his head-- he’d taken a moment to notice he’d been staring at his mirror image, wide-eyed and completely and utterly confused. Just lost. Like Edward was feeling at the moment.

“Yeah, I know,” Ed grumbles. “I was right about the special ability thing. I told you so.”

Ed could practically feel Alphonse’s eyes roll away from him, and Ed sighed-- wheezing as he hopped over another swing-- blinking and lifting his leg out in a kick that sent the shifter flying. They didn’t quite falter, however, swinging about and digging their heels into the ground as they stood.

 _Fuck_.

“Fuck,” Ed muttered.

“Impressed?” The man snorted, sprinting back over-- and Ed swung a fist, only for it to be caught. Eyes wide, Ed blinked, quickly retracting it and side-stepping. Quickly enough, they changed forms again-- back into something a little more familiar--

\--because _of course_ they would’ve seen Lan Fan before. At least it made them easier to punch, although he felt a little bad about it.

“Always did wonder how the Fullmetal Alchemist would fare in a fight once I first heard about you,” they waved a hand in the air, practically _swooning--_ “it’s quite honorable that I get the opportunity to fight with him, don’t you know?”

“Shit,” he muttered, flexing his fingers testily as he stared up at the other. Quickly, he swung a leg out, watching them fall to the ground with a quiet grunt. “Flattery isn’t gonna get you _anywhere--_ ”

“You sure like to swear, don’t you?” They gritted through their lips, laughing. “Love spicy ones like you.”

“How long have you even been _alive?_ ” Ed grumbled, falling to his knees and pinning the shifter’s wrists to the tiles. He stuttered in place, reaching out to clasp his hands together as they were placed, but then he-- faltered.

Oh yeah. Couldn’t do that anymore. Force of habit.

“Not long,” he snorted, jolting up and butting his head against Ed’s, causing him to yowl-- “I just know what I go for.”

Rubbing at his temple, Ed stared through slitted eyes-- before raising a fist, curling it, and forcing him back into the ground. The other grunted as his head hit the ground, a loud _smack_ resounding throughout the room that made Ling’s head turn off to the side-- making a startled little noise as Alphonse shoved him back into action.

“You’re _really_ pissing me off,” The alchemist snarled, voice low and dangerous-- albeit before landing another hit on their nose as they moved to sit back up, before the red light encased them again-- _that damn waiter from a few days ago,_ _Ed noted, how did they even_ \-- “if you just stopped being a damn _puppet_ for this lady, we’d be wasting a lot less _time_ _!_ ”

Punctuating every word with another bully back into the floor, Ed felt his face get progressively red-- but maybe it was the strain opening the cut on his cheek back up again, making him drown out the music surrounding him like it was the very air he breathed itself. He watched as they grinned at him between hits, smug and careless. Like they were okay with being used as a punching bag.

“You’re such a damn _coward_ for pulling this shit,” he snarled, watching as their head snapped to the side with another hit-- sating Ed’s knuckles as they shifted in his hands. “Just go back to normal so we can actually _fight!_ ”

“A _coward_ _?”_ Fuck, they began to _laugh, fucking hell--_ another hit, “I assure you, I’m not the coward here.”

And without thinking, two words left Ed’s lips, before he stalled his fist in the air all together: “Prove it.”

\--Edward began to wonder if he’d messed up in that moment, because something sinister crawled across their features. 

“As you wish.”

In that moment, everything essentially stopped in Ed’s mind, watching the red crackle of light encase his opponent-- blinking impatiently before he halted all together. Time had come to a crawl, and Ed. Practically stopped breathing. He _hesitated._

He only realized a split second ahead of time that he was mimicking Ling, who, unbeknownst to Ed, had turned with wide eyes and completely frozen in place where he stood.

“Good impression, isn’t it?” Ed-- _stared,_ fist raised mid-air, chest shaking as he _breathed._ Fucking _breathed,_ and stared, not sure what to do, and he quickly felt his brain shutting down entirely. “You can’t hurt me like this, sunshine."

Fuck, it was his _voice._ But it wasn’t Ling. It wasn’t Ling. 

The real Ling, which he’d completely forgotten existed all together, was the one shouting for him to _snap out_ of whatever stupid _daze_ he was in, getting ready to move to help him before being grabbed by his own homunculus. Pulled back into action for the thousandth time, rendered unable to help.

He opened his mouth to speak, only for his brain to pull out blanks-- and that damn _imposter,_ he just-- trailed his fingers along his cheek. Brushed them along in a happy little motion. Waiting for something. And then he pulled him _down,_ and then Ed couldn’t _breathe._

And just barely, just _barely,_ Ed could register their lips meeting. Soft. _So_ fucking _soft_ and _warm_ , and-- Ed.. Ed wanted to melt into it. He barely even registered the fact that he did. But there was a certain coldness to it that haunted it-- knowing that it.

It wasn’t _actually_ Ling. And he was just… letting this happen, letting his eyes slip shut, and--

 _“Edward!_ ”

Ed’s eyes snapped open, abandoning that prior train of thought and swirling guilt in his gut altogether, quickly pulling back and sucking in a _deep_ breath of air-- because _fuck_ did he need it. And when he finally came back down to Earth, his eyes locked on to Ling-- _not_ Ling’s face, just.

Barely noticing that he was _smiling_ at him, wide and toothy and _happy,_ before he heard a _scream._

And something plunged, deep and low into his chest.

Ed--

_hurt._

If he looked down, he would’ve been able to see the increasingly large, pooling stain of red blossoming through the fabric of his clothes that only Alphonse and Ling could see-- something he was blissfully unaware of. But the feeling was familiar. Too familiar. Warm, like coming home. But he knew that wasn’t the reason why.

But there was something still so _cold_ about it, he thought, as a vial and metallic liquid overloaded his senses-- leading him to gag and throw his mouth’s horrid red content onto the floor. Just beside Ling. _Not Ling?_ Maybe it was actually Ling, and he was in denial of it. He didn’t understand. His head hurt really bad.

And he _breathed,_ suddenly hyper-aware of it all, voice raw and shaking as his mouth hung loose-- golden eyes losing that poor _spark_ as they ever-so-slowly drifted over to. Ling. Yeah. Ling.

“Thanks for the free shot, love,” he murmured, tugging Ed close, “I wasn’t going to last much longer either, you know?”

Oh.

_Oh._

Lips slightly agape, Ed choked as the sharp-- shit-- _spear_ completely and utterly vanished. Edward watched him-- _Ling_ \-- _disappear_ , too. Vanish. Crumble. And it stung. He felt like he was going to do that too, but he was-- he was melting. Into a pool of red.

 _Philosopher’s Stone._ That red water.

Maybe he used it up too much, he considered, before completely and utterly falling onto his side and curling up. Too fast. Too much happening at once. And he could just vaguely see Alphonse and Ling ( _no, not Ling_ ) scuttering about in an attempt to reach him, eyes drifting open and _shut_ and _down._

 _Funny,_ he thought in the last coherent part of his mind, _red in a sea of gold._

Just vaguely in the back of his mind, he registered being picked up, being tugged to someone’s chest, and being fretted over. Two shaky, scared voices. Loud. Too loud. Running. Cold. Wet. Lavender. Jasmine. Gold. _Too_ much gold, he groaned in the back of his mind as his hair fell in front of his face-- 

\--and as his eyes rolled back up into his head, he thought there was too much white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> fun facts abt chapter 10 -
> 
> \- this is the first climax. abt 10k words, took 15 hours to write and two consecutive days! thats why it's a day late  
> \- this one didnt change much from the draft minus like. one conversation explaining chi. this was always the planned climax, for the most part  
> \- speaking of chi the like.. tasting thing is a bit of a hc??? it's not like genuine tasting it's more like a replica of the sensation on the tip of ur tongue that you find most reminds u of the person and particularly stick to. like. shit can be fucking tangy or taste sweet but not much more than that. it's more of a soul thing rather than a body thing  
> \- five more chapters just about! this is probably going to be the longest chapter beyond the finale  
> \- did not proofread this in full, sadly, becaus ehoyl fucking shit god i cant look at this any longer... hopefully yall like it?!?!?  
> \- this is what a post on my twitter saying "gay people will be real in like, 40 hours" referred to  
> \- the homunculi thing was the only thing that really got changed up during the process because i realized i wouldnt be able to write that many characters at once. like originally they were supposed to parallel the seven virtues but it didn't. sound or work right? it didnt fit? and also why would dante know abt father and the homunculi at all??? theres a vague hint of the intent there in chapter nine but it's mostly why i refer to the dude that ed fights as "shapeshifter". also just realized that i couldnt write that many characters at once because it'd overload everything, but that was the original intention. so mila and tina became REALLY convenient in that case  
> \- this is ed swears the chapter  
> \- yes, the book ed refers to is the one he was reading about milos in chapter one and no i really didnt expect the thing to transition this smoothly it jsut happened. the idea originally went a lot farther back than holle though and it was originally just a reference thatd lead into the second fic but now we've got an actual plotline?!???  
> \- me having to copy & paste two halves of this chapter off of google docs bc it stops highlighting after a point like "ouugough this is gonna be a big one isnt it"  
> \- if youve watched to the end of 03. you know exactly what this parallels


	11. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “March twenty-fifth, nineteen twelve,” he announced, almost to himself-- causing the man across the room to perk. “It was your birthday. And I made you a card. Because-- because Alphonse told me that I should get along with you better.”

“You’re late again, Fullmetal.”

Edward wasn’t quite sure when the white light had finally faded from his vision, or when he’d found himself standing in Mustang’s office. Some of the white light still resided in the room, peering in through the large, long windows that lined the back wall against the Colonel’s desk. If he squinted, he could see little specks of dust sprinkled across the sunrays-- and he would notice that the outside of the room was completely, and utterly, blank.

 _How odd,_ he thought, taking in Mustang’s monotone voice and the resounding smack of papers against oak as they were forced together. _When did he get here?_

“ _Colonel?_ ” He murmured, voice awed. “Where the fuck..”

Mustang, seemingly jolting at the sudden use of profanity, turned around-- black eyes beady and blinking. Matching-in-colour eyebrows were arched, disrupting his normal stoic appearance-- and it took Edward a moment to realize that they weren’t actually that sheened over gray. Not blind.

His lips, as well, were pursed into a thin line-- and after a moment, that helped to shatter Ed’s perspective of him. His expression turned into something more concerned and remarkably _soft,_ face twisted into a concerned grimace as his eyes continued to scan him.

“..You’re in my office,” he piped up after a moment, “are you feeling alright?”

The alchemist’s lips-- _Edward’s_ lips-- sputtered in place, opening and closing. Eyelids fluttering, and taking a moment to pause, Ed tilted his head downwards. And after a moment, his eyes went owlish, and his body quickly went tense and _taut._

A long, red coat… wasn’t that supposed to be at the bottom of his suitcase right now? That stupid little zip-up he never wore anything under, hadn’t seen in years-- leather pants, chunky harness boots matching in style.. and as he attempted to flex his right hand’s fingers, experimenting, before realizing he couldn’t _feel_ anything there anymore-- his knees almost buckled beneath him.

Fuck. What the _fuck._

If he’d looked up, he would’ve noticed Mustang staring at him from afar, still judging and worrisome. After a moment and over the static suddenly abusing Ed’s ears, he could just vaguely register soft _‘taps’_ belonging to another pair of boots-- deducing that it was probably Mustang approaching him.

His suspicion was confirmed when he was suddenly met with the man squatting before him, peering into his eyes-- causing him to jump. Still smelt like soot and whatever that fucking cheap cologne was. And after a moment, he placed the ball of his palm to Edward’s forehead-- causing Ed to wince a little at the contact.

Instinctively, his hands fisted and fished into his pockets, Ed quickly feeling his own breath hitch at the sensation of cardstock meeting his fingers. Something papery, yet hard, was what the tips felt-- but why the hell would he even have a card in his pocket? What was this? Where was he?

“What’s today’s date?” He ended up muttering, voice trembling-- unbeknownst to him. Maybe he _was_ sick, and he was sure Mustang thought the same, with the way his brows knitted together. 

“March twenty-fifth,” Roy hummed in response, retracting his hand from Edward’s forehead. After a moment, he rubbed it against his pants-- although there wasn’t anything to scrub away. Maybe he was just trying to pretend the contact hadn’t happened. “You don’t _feel_ warm, though. Have you eaten yet?”

Edward blinked.

“Yeah, I just..” _fuck._ He was supposed to be in Xing right now, wasn’t he? Not here. “It’s.. your birthday.”

“Astute observation, Fullmetal,” Mustang snorted, voice laced with sarcastic amusement-- before standing back up, and wandering back to his desk. “Why? Did you forget it? I’m wounded.”

Becoming more and more aware of the knot forming in his throat, he continued to finger at the card discarded in his pocket-- half-forgotten, half-fidgeting. _A card. Roy’s birthday. His zip-up…_ oh, _fucking hell._

“March twenty-fifth, nineteen twelve,” he announced, almost to himself-- causing the man across the room to perk. “It was your birthday. And I made you a card. Because-- because Alphonse told me that I should get along with you better.”

Wincing at how stupidly _young_ and choked up his voice sounded-- puberty was a _bitch,_ and it wasn’t gentle on him-- he watched in anxious stewing as Mustang stood before him. His gaze kept fixated on the papers before him that he’d sorted into a pile moments earlier, probably work to burn-- before his head turned, body moving with it.

“A gift, huh?” He snickered, like he hadn’t even heard the latter half of what Ed said-- everything going straight through one ear and out the other one. Edward’s teeth grit. “Let’s see it, then.”

Stepping a few paces of his own violation (though Ed didn’t care, really), chunky boots smacking against the ground with every step, he soon found himself pulling out a white card. The white was ever-so-often interrupted by poorly drawn stick figures, fire, and a bunch of glitter glue he suddenly remembered Hughes having given him a few days prior. And after a moment, he held it out-- gloved hands extended towards the towering figure ahead.

Quickly, yet carefully, it was taken from him.

“This is _exactly_ what happened on that date,” Ed laughed, voice soft, quiet, and wistful, “I was anxious to give it to you, and I looked kinda sick, so you-- you checked my temperature. And when I finally gave it to you, you just said--”

“Impressive work, Fullmetal,” Roy laughed, flipping open the card and arching his brows at the internal contents. Almost like he was reading something flavourful, and Ed had been quite sure to use that kind of language. “I love the art. I’ll put it somewhere safe, alright?”

“ _\--That._ ” He breathed, like Mustang could even hear him. He probably could. Whatever. “I’d just gotten back to Eastern Command after a mission in Aquroya. You and everyone took Alphonse and I out to eat to celebrate. Even though he couldn’t.”

“Although, I don’t think I’m forty-four,” Mustang droned on under his breath, before turning his back. Carefully, he opened the card back up, and placed it onto his desk for safe-keeping. “I don’t look that old, do I?”

Ed snickered at the muttering, head tilting upwards as Mustang padded over to him. After a moment, a heavy hand plopped onto the top of his hair-- squishing his antenna, and the fluffy mop shielding his skull. Eyes as wide as saucers, the earlier alchemist’s shoulders slumped-- before simply falling into Roy’s chest as he stood. He’d expected it. But he didn’t know if he’d actually been ready for it.

Given he hadn’t done this before-- not from what he could remember, he felt Mustang suddenly _jolt._

“‘M so tired, Colonel,” Ed murmured into his shoulder, voice continuing to choke and crack. Quickly and almost desperately, he grasped at the lapels of the other’s uniform-- burying his eyes into the fabric. “Wanted to hug you so damn bad after this. There wasn’t even a point in celebrating, because it was just another false lead for the stone, and I felt like--”

Edward damn near _wheezed_ when firm arms wrapped themselves around his back, squeezing him with a surprising gentleness.

 _But at least,_ he thought in the coherent part of his mind, _he could cry._

Breath suddenly hitching and becoming irregular, the alchemist buried his face deeper into the sea of blue surrounding his vision, fingers curling where they clenched. Mustang, or whoever he’d been visualizing at this point-- he wasn’t quite sure--, didn’t even seem bothered; reassuringly rubbing a few fingers behind his back, as if coercing a baby back into calmness. Pacifying them.

“It’s _alright,_ Fullmetal,” the voice cooed, earning a louder, gurgled response from Ed, “you’re okay.”

Damn his voice. He sounded so fucking _disgusting._ Stupid. 

That had gone on for a few moments, so it felt, and the cheap imitation of Mustang-- god, he was so out of character, wasn’t he? Was this just what he wanted him to be?-- Had almost calmed him completely.

The increasingly sharp pain in his abdomen didn’t agree, though.

“ _Hurts,_ ” he pleaded, wheezing into the wet cotton, covered in snot and tears. “ _Colonel--_ ”

“You have to wake up now, Ed,” _that wasn’t what he called--_ “just open your eyes.”

Edward, despite refusing to open his eyes, proceeded onwards to see a world of white anyways.

\--

Xingese.

That was the first thing he registered upon waking up.

“ _Shit,_ ” he heard someone mutter, before rushing towards him. Or at least he assumed they had, upon golden eyes flicking open-- fluttering and heavy. _Fuck,_ they were so damn _heavy,_ weren’t they? How long was he out? _Why_ was he out? Why were all of these people here? If he could understand Xingese, he’d notice them muttering a soft _‘he’s awake’._

\--And then, in a moment of hazy clarity, he jolted upwards.

“ _Ling,_ ” he wheezed, before seizing and harshly gagging on air as a sudden white hot, sharp, prickling pain devoured the lower half of his body. Familiar, but unlike anything else he’d felt before. “Where’s--”

He hadn’t even noticed he was grabbing at his chest-- clawing desperately, almost, the only thing holding him back being the fabric covering the skin-- before his hand was forcibly removed with firm care, and he was pushed back down onto the bed. 

“Relax, Mr. Elric,” they cooed-- voice hesitant and accent heavy, clearly not comfortable or commonplace in Amestrian. Their damn voice was suddenly softer than it had been moments prior, too. --Fuck, actually-- where did all the people go? Why was it so quiet? “You’re alright. You just need to relax.”

Mouth gaping at air as he tried so hard-- so damn _hard to relax,_ he decided that he hated the way his stomach cramped and clung at everything as he breathed. Why’d he feel like shit? Where was Mustang? What the _fuck_ was going on? And vaguely, he noticed, his forehead was covered in sweat-- golden, crusted locks of hair matted to it. But it didn’t reek. It smelled clean.

Too clean.

_Shit._

“Ling,” he repeated, voice quieter and airier than before; almost bordering desperate, “I _need_ to see him, you don’t understand--”

“His Imperial Majesty is currently in a meeting, right now,” the woman, Ed was finally able to actually notice-- sighed, standing back up from the bed with a soft creak from the mattress. “But I’ll tell him you requested him.”

Ed blinked, eyes slitted with the amount of force it took to keep them open. _Especially_ given the struggle. After a moment, his head knocked backwards against the pillow beneath him, laid uncomfortably flat on his bed-- and he slung a forearm over his eyes at the soft _‘tss’_ it made, groaning at the uncomfortable shift of muscle the movement provided.

“I don’t.. I shouldn’t be here.” Voice gravelly and cracking, the alchemist dragged a hand carelessly down his face. “What even--”

He was cut off by the door opening with a harsh, sudden, _slam._

“ _Get out._ ”

Head turning, Ed’s eyebrows arched-- not much unlike Roy’s had before-- at the dangerously low voice, feeling something in his stomach drop seeing Alphonse. Attempting to sit up before realizing he couldn’t _do_ that, Ed plopped back down with a pained groan, letting his fingers fist into the sheets as the woman accompanying him silently left. Not even an objection. Or so he assumed, by the way his ears kept picking up ringing every time he tried to do something even minor. Probably the loud as shit door, too.

He’d sure began announcing his presence when he opened them.

Fuck.

After the woman had left, Alphonse hadn’t bothered to stop for politeness-- slamming the door shut behind him with the same ferocity of opening it, quickly striding forwards, and grabbing a chair and letting its wooden legs scrape across the floor. Ed winced as Alphonse plopped it beside his bed with gusto, slamming himself down into it and giving him a scalding look.

 _Fuck_ was all his mind could muster at this point, really.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Alphonse let his voice raise, though not quite enough to cause suspicion from outside the soundproof walls. “You almost got yourself _killed!_ ”

“What?” Ed murmured, genuinely confused and awed, and Alphonse aggressively shrugged the heavy hospital sheets encasing him down in response-- hiking up the pale blue tank top he was provided with to show him.. _something._

And as his brother pointed at a large entry wound near the left side of his stomach, blotchy, pink, twitching-- large, fleshy-- he almost gagged again; infinitely louder, right then and there. _Ah. That’s what he meant._

“And you didn’t even _bother_ telling me that this has happened _before?!_ ” Ed winced. _Oh._ Yeah. “Is _that_ why you fucked off for six months?!”

Sighing, infinitely too sapped of any and all of his energy to even start dealing with this at the moment, Ed let his full body weight sink into the sheets-- brows furrowed as Alphonse angrily continued to gesture. Fucking _god._ Letting his eyes slip closed, Edward’s lips pursed-- turning white with the force of it.

“Because that’s apparently the _only_ damn reason you survived! And you have _May_ to thank for that!” Alphonse continued. To Ed’s ears, the shouting was practically white noise at this point. “The doctors said, for _whatever insane_ reason, your internal organs were structured in _such_ a way that whatever got you couldn’t hit anything vital-- and they almost couldn’t help you because you were so _messed up?_ ”

Lips quirking downwards in what almost felt like guilt as Alphonse’s voice grew more pleading near the end, dulled eyes fluttered back open with hesitance-- staring towards the ceiling. Of course. It wasn’t even white like the rest of the room. It was fucking gold, harsh on the eyes, because of course it was. He was going to fucking tear Ling _apart_ for their shit choices in architecture.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, plastering a small, wistful smile onto his face, and he saw Alphonse deflate in the corner of his vision.

“..I just thought--” he mumbled, pulling a hand up to his face, probably to restrain tears. Edward assumed-- “I thought you were going to _die._ There was so much blood, everywhere, and we-- we barely got out. We couldn’t even get the other one.”

Edward swallowed the knot in his throat down. He’d done enough crying of his own for today, he decided.

“How long was I out?” He eventually murmured, voice hesitant. 

“Just a day,” Alphonse responded, voice calmer and quieter, pulling his hand from his face. “Ling-- Ling and I sat here, most of the time, but he was eventually dragged into a meeting, and he had to go. I’ve never seen him genuinely mad up until now. Started yelling some colourful words in Xingese, you wouldn’t know them-- but it was a little funny.”

Ed winced. God. He didn’t want to see Ling, actually. Not after--

“The doctors said it was too close,” Al sighed, “May helped patch the wound with alkahestry when we found them outside, but your body needs genuine time to heal from the internal stuff. Probably just a few weeks, especially since we can help the process, and you can wander, but..”

“Hey,” Ed swallowed, “--tell Ling not to come in.” Gaze averted, the words were spit out in a rush, some kind of venom and firmness interlocked in them. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him if he does.”

Alphonse blinked.

“But I thought--” 

“ _Don’t._ ”

..After a moment, and seemingly understandingly-- Alphonse nodded.

\--

“He said not to come in.”

Standing in front of the doorway to Edward’s temporary room, Ling blinked-- slightly awed-- eyes wide and _confused_ , before simply settling on determined and a little bit _annoyed._ Not quite angry, not quite aggravated, but clearly unpleased with the situation-- Alphonse unreacting, but looking calm and collected. 

“He’s an idiot, then.” Ling sighed, shaking his head. 

“I think he’s just nervous about the whole--” Alphonse gestured at the air with his hand, and Ling hummed. Quite an apt way of putting it, it was. “..Thing. Brother can be-- _stubborn._ As soon as they gave him permission to walk around-- I don’t even know _where_ he went. He just wandered off.”

“So you just let him _leave_ _?_ ” Ling murmured, tone incredulous. “He could’ve gone back to--”

“--I doubt it,” Alphonse grumbled, rolling his eyes. “If Ed doesn’t want to be found, he _doesn’t want_ to be found. Trust me. If he doesn’t tell me where he’s going, then it’s just best not to go after him. He wouldn’t go to the first place we’d think about.”

Ling’s brows raised. “The last place, you’re meaning?”

“Probably actually the third or fourth. Who knows.” Al sighed. “He won’t go somewhere completely out of his comfort zone, but he kind of tries to stay out of dodge of the most predictable locations. He’s an utter idiot, but he knows how to hide.”

“I doubt he’s actually hiding.” 

“Yeah,” Rubbing the back of his neck, Alphonse croons, “he’s probably still in the palace somewhere. Probably ate, too-- knows he can’t go too long without eating, like you. Could ask the chefs where he went.”

Ling hums, and begins to step away-- causing Alphonse to jolt at the sudden movement.

“--What do you even plan on doing when you find chase him down? He probably won’t stop easy.” He suddenly interjects, and Ling stops where he stands.

“..I don’t know.” Alphonse watches his fists ball and uncurl, uncertain and anxious. “I just.. I need to talk to him.”

“Feels wrong to just leave it all hanging in the air?” Al snorts. “God, you _both’re_ idiots.”

“I’m not _stupid,_ ” Ling defends, voice heightening subconsciously in mock offense-- “It’s just… a difficult situation.”

“Yeah,” Al snorts, “a difficult situation.”

\--

Ling wasn’t able to find Ed that night, whether he was in denial about it or was able to believe it or not. He’d never had that much trouble trying to track down a man before, especially when he was in close quarters.

He tried to wait in his bedroom too, see what happened-- patient if he returned-- but the action wasn’t fruitful. Maybe he’d just decided to sleep somewhere else for the night. So he’d gone to his room in the hospital. Inevitably, after waiting in dark silence, he reasoned-- _maybe_ he hadn’t decided to sleep at all. Ling knew he couldn’t either.

The next day was the same. Ling asked Alphonse again if he knew where he was, and if he could see him. He asked the doctors. Demanded them to tell him his location-- the doctors said they weren’t quite sure where he’d wandered off to, but Alphonse, now, apparently knew. And yet-- he said that he couldn’t say. That he’d probably left again.

And there was that look-- that stupid, determined _look_ in his eye. Ling was sure he couldn’t get Alphonse to tell him where Edward was, even if he pulled out all the stops. He didn’t know what was happening behind the scenes.

Yet-- whenever Ling looked for him, Edward seemed to vanish, like clockwork. Avoiding him, purposefully. Once, he was told he was in the library, studying-- specifically from one of the overseers of the royal nursery. When he finally checked the library, research materials were left out in the open, the dark ink from the surprisingly neat yet quickly scrawled writing still left wet-- along with a glass of what looked to be orange juice. It was almost as if someone was helping him know when he was coming.

Another time, Ed was to be in his hospital room, getting treatment for his wound again. Just a checkup, and Ling had stayed on edge the entire time-- nearly rocking off his seat at the notion of finally figuring out what the _hell_ was going on. Ling had a meeting at the time that had happened-- except it was too late for them to even bump into each other by the time he was finally released.

Maybe this was what Edward felt when they started chasing this alchemist.

But Alphonse, no matter how much he ordered, eventually ended up threatening-- except he didn’t quite mean it, and Alphonse seemed to acknowledge that by the way he deadpanned every single time-- wouldn’t tell him anything. Even though he finally knew. Was probably helping him. And he wasn’t telling him because-- because he _wasn’t_ one of his subjects. And neither was Ed, the uncontrollable spark of flame he was. Not to be ordered around.

Ling, after a while, felt out of control for the first time in four years.

This stopped only a week later.

\--

\--Even seven days felt too long for Ling, despite liking to think that he was always a man of extensive patience. Especially with these two brothers. But something-- something fucking _grated_ at him, knowing that he was purposefully being brushed off.

And after that one week, he’d almost given up-- having half-forgotten about Dante completely. It left thoughts in his mind. Would she have seen the blood left over from Edward? Think she succeeded, although noticing that one of her homunculi perished overnight? A worthy exchange. Had she gone back to her normal doings, thinking they’d all given up entirely, and roped more people into her scheme? Killed them, in that period?

Truthfully-- they essentially had given up, hadn’t they?

The thought of others dying because of one little loss-- one little period of ignorance, had almost wiped Ling’s appetite completely. Almost enough to the point where he’d come close to avoiding the palace’s dining hall the seventh morning. Which, evidently, the decision as to whether or not he should go to have fuel to rev him up for the day had turned things for the better.

Specifically-- when he saw long, golden locks of hair, pulled up into a messy bun-- Ling actually took a moment to wonder whether or not it was actually Edward for a moment. Just a hint of denial had been stirring in his chest. All he wore was a white dress shirt-- messy, puffy, and crumpled-- half-unbuttoned whenever he turned too far, he noticed--, along with some black pants and shoes shoddily pulled on that made it look he’d just crawled out of bed.

When he turned his head all the way, though; revealing his profile, Ling caught a glimpse of sleep-crusted rutiliant eyes-- and he already felt his own feet rushing forwards of their own volition. And for a moment, he wondered if Greed had suddenly come back, tightly grabbing at Edward’s arm-- voice laced with some sort of pathetic desperation.

“Spar with me.”

Ling, every night for a few weeks, would constantly remember Ed looking like he’d seen a ghost in that moment. And yet, he didn’t have a choice in the matter as to whether or not he wanted to do so, only yelling in protest as the young royal grabbed him by the arm and pulled him all the way into the courtyard.

\--

_We,_ Ling blankly thought, ducking below a sloppy kick from Ed-- jutting his own leg out beneath his metal foot in rebuttal, _should do this more often._

Ed, carelessly, had pulled both of his feet above Ling’s swinging foot in time-- using his hands on Ling’s lowered spine to propel himself behind the Emperor. Ling’s breath hitched as his back was suddenly weighed down on, and he breathed with exertion-- wishing he’d actually taken the time to eat prior to this. Not like Ed was faring much better, telling by the way beads of sweat had begun to roll down his face-- sheening his upper body for what it was worth.

Yeah. They needed to do this more.

And just about the entire time, they’d both kept mainly silent-- not really even exchanging any words beyond “ _what the fuck, Ling?!_ ” And a few strained noises whenever they executed a move too strenuously. Ling wished he hadn’t worn his royal attire. Ed probably wished he didn’t fucking hoard tight pants like it was his legacy.

But, at _least,_ it likely helped them get some steam off of both of their heads-- or so both of them unknowingly reasoned. Ling wasn’t even sure if Ed was necessarily able to spar yet, judging by his wound. A few more weeks, and they’d be completely fine, not even having to worry about things of the sort. Maybe just a few days, if he kept his hopes up. They could afford to lounge around for more.

Scouring the ground with his hand to find his dao, Ling exhaled heavily as he felt it weigh his hand down-- standing back up straight and catching a heavy fist aimed straight for his back. This one-- the right one-- he knew he had to be gentle with, quickly shoving it away and readying his dao before him.

Whenever they sparred during that few six months before, Ed always thought having a damn sword was cheap, and he appeared to keep that mentality; judging by the way he groaned once his now-rolling eyes locked onto it. Greed, though, thought it was funny to watch his ass get kicked. Put his damn ego in place.

Ling wondered why Ed never bothered alchemizing a sword for himself, however. Or a spear. He said he’d liked spears at one point, didn’t he? Was it too troublesome? Of course, he couldn’t make one on the fly now, and they’d already begun, but-- it left a few questions running through Ling’s mind. Perhaps he just didn’t like the fact that they could be lethal in the wrong hands.

He didn’t doubt that he’d used them before, though. Or that he liked them. Ed was quite stupid like that, liking sharp and dark things (Ling had learned this the semi-lighthearted way in the stomach) but it was.. endearing. Sort of.

“You’re in a mood,” Ed snorted, suddenly breaking his train of thought.

“I wonder why,” was all Ling responded with, watching Ed yelp as his feet were-- now successfully-- pulled from under him. Of course talking would distract him the most easily, because that’s how Ed _was,_ and _fuck_ if his constantly running mouth didn’t get annoying sometimes.

Ling’s hands shook.

Watching Ed shield the back of his head as he hit the ground, gurgling, he carefully eyed the spot where the impalement wound on Ed’s chest resided for a moment-- before twirling his dao and hovering it above Ed’s pulse point in one smooth motion. Subtly, the alchemist’s Adam Apple bobbed as he swallowed and took a breath in.

Beyond the way his hands were unsteady, he kind of liked the way Ed’s eyes widened. Stupid and cute, he was. He’d been thinking Ed was quite stupid a lot lately. Not quite a good mentality, but was it really a lie?

“This is why you can’t get distracted, Edward.” Ling tsked, squatting down. “Never let your guard down. We can’t let what happened there happen again.”

Their noses brushed, and Ling could practically feel the way Ed breathed against his face-- heavy and warm (although he looked like he wanted to say something or snap back in response, which was amusing), the air leaving his mouth in humid puffs. His eyelids fluttered, and Ling wanted nothing more than to lean down a little further and kiss him.

Edward, always full of surprises, had actually done that for him-- grabbing the nape of his neck, fisting his hands in his hair, and tugging him down. Ling’s hands went completely weak, and he dropped his dao off to the side, rushing calloused hands upwards to cup at Edward’s cheeks. Soft lips, but they were pretty chapped. _Probably should’ve brought some water to drink with them,_ he reasoned, as his eyes slipped shut.

Ed needed some work in the kissing department as well, judging by the way his nose kept gnashing against Ling’s own. He seemed to focus on one lip in particular-- his lower one, roughly tugging at it, pecking at it-- and it could hardly be called a kiss. An Edward-Elric-Brand-Kiss, if you will, with the way it kept lingering. Ling couldn’t even bring himself to object, trying to ease him into something a little more gentle and slower.

That _eventually_ worked, and Ed seemed to calm his motions-- slowing, and becoming a little less rushed. Almost calculated, hesitant, and experimenting-- which was befitting of him, really, the scholar he was. Ling’s hands had calmed as well, doing the same thing in the basic and essential sense-- not even realizing they had been shaking until they’d both entirely melted against each other completely.

Making a soft, fluttery little noise in the back of his throat as protest while the alchemist quickly pulled away for air-- _wheezing,_ Ling found himself _laughing_ . He also found the way Ed’s face flushed to be quite adorable, and something to revel in-- _remember,_ even-- although Ed quickly snapped his head back towards Ling, lips quirked in a pout at the assumed mockery. 

“ _Hey!_ ” He shouted (although it was more of an aggressive whisper in Ling’s ears), defensive, “I did good, didn’t I?”

Ling simply snorted.

“You could do better,” he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, relaxing his body against Ed’s as they simply laid together, sandwiched, for a few moments-- still brushing noses, and simply staring at each other. Ling didn’t even notice Edward huffing at the notion of ‘doing better’ until a minute or so later.

Ling, determined to outdo Ed, however, slowly leant back in.

\--

“Hey, Ed?”

“Mm?” Was the only response Ling got from Ed, laying beside him-- who was, strangely enough, reassuringly rubbing at his shoulder. They’d opted to simply lay outside in the courtyard a while longer, fawning over the way the water from small, man-made streams gushed around them-- and admiring the way birds chirped and primed their feathers in golden baths. Both heads were carefully nestled into the green grass as they winded down, gold and black complementing each other quite well-- and Edward couldn’t help but remember watching the clouds was always something he liked to do in Resembool.

“Why’d you avoid me for so long?” Ling sighed, nestling his nose into the crook between Ed’s collarbone and jaw-- feeling it roll as he soaked the words in. “I mean, I get that people can be.. inept, at times, but--”

“--Felt bad.” Ed hummed. “I just couldn’t.. face _you_ after that, I guess. Al was pissed. So you probably were, too. I wasn’t even kissing the real _you,_ you know? I felt like that shot down my chances at everything.”

Eyes slitting open, Ling’s head craned upwards-- resulting in the smallest glance down from the alchemist accompanying him. He wondered how long they could do this. Not the relationship thing, necessarily-- just.. before his council got pissed, or something. Xing was still strict, technically. He doubted they’d be enthused that he was courting a commoner, now-- nonetheless a _boy._

“I’m not mad,” Ling laughed, and he felt Edward’s shoulders relax with the sound. “It was just frustrating. Not-- not that thing, but just avoiding me, I guess?” 

Edward blinked, and the Emperor watched his eyes slip shut-- looking almost at peace, which was something new. He’d seen Ed smile, certainly, which didn’t come long after-- but it was. Nice. Just to see him more vulnerable, he supposed.

“Yeah, I was kind of an ass about that, wasn’t I?” He snorted, eyes drifting back open-- staring straight up at a stray cloud. “I don’t even know where we’re going to go from here.”

Ling blinked, and he quickly felt his lips purse-- rolling around in his mouth, before wetting them with some form of anxiety rolling around in his gut. With the way Ed’s chi churned, he could tell he almost felt the same-- and he’d wondered why he hadn’t bothered tracking him down that way sooner.

“Well,” Ling began, “there’s.. multiple ways to go about things, and there’s multiple things that could mean--” he held up a few fingers, “--Dante, and us.”

“That’s just two,” Ed sighed, “but I.. yeah, I don’t.. I don’t know where to go after this. We still need to stop _her,_ but who knows how the hell we’ll do that. She’s probably got more homunculi hidden somewhere, judging by the amount of people matching names up with her advertisement in the paper. Not in the mood to get impaled again.”

Ling shrugged his shoulders, reaching a hand up to fiddle with Ed’s hair-- curling a strand around his finger as he did so. Ed, in response, simply chortled, giving another small ‘rub’ to the side of the royal’s arm.

“As for us,” Ed continued, “I think-- we’ll be alright. If you.. wanna be a thing, that’s fine with me, I guess.”

Ling blinked.

“You know,” he snickered, eyes squinting back shut, “you could just call me your _boyfriend_ and call it a day.”

Ed only groaned.

“Yeah, but you’ll make me pay for a bunch of fuckin’ food if I take you out _anywhere,_ ” while Edward rolled his eyes, Ling whined in protest, flailing his arms and turning away. “You’re fuckin’ loaded! And you’re _still_ mooching off of me, you damn child.”

“That’s what _nice_ boyfriends do!” The other pouted. “You’re so cruel. And what is _child_ supposed to mean? You’re ruining the moment, too!”

After a moment, Ed paused-- only to titter, and begin _laughing,_ his voice loud and boisterous. Ling, in turn-- flushed--, only puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms. Rolling back towards Ed, the alchemist wrapped an arm around him, burying his nose into the crown of his hair as he continued to guffaw.

It took a little while for Ed to calm down, eventually coming back down to Earth-- a soft, contented smile squishing his cheeks to his eyes. Ling had long since stopped pouting, face buried into Ed’s chest-- counting every breath Ed stifled as he eased back into normalcy. It was nice, though.

To relax.

“Yeah,” Ling piped up, wriggling himself closer to Ed’s side.

“We’ll be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try 2 update on the weekendz every week or two!!!!
> 
> pls hmu on my tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart or just wanna come by and say hi!!!!!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> epic chapter 11 fun facts -
> 
> \- the longer these get the more terrified i become of my own typey fingers  
> \- al!!! says!!! fuck!!!!!! he's also jsut a good brother we need more al screentime actually  
> \- GAY PEOPLE FINALLY REAL FUCK EYAHEFBAHB i got so excited writing this chapter. this was originally gonna be split up over two chapters but it's like. there r going to be FIFTEEN, we are at ELEVEN,  
> \- if you couldn't tell 90% of this fic is for xing and chi headcanons and gay people and projection like "i'm gonna give the gays everything they want" that is me i am the gays  
> \- hgngmrmg parnetnall roy... i got weirdly emotional writing the beginning of this chapter but that might because i was half-awake  
> \- no good facts for this but!!! fuck ya!!! u can tell whaht fuckgin tropes im projecint gin this fic honestly (sword under chin, sparring, becausue Ougghgh)  
> \- ed is not good with emotions. these bitches r mororomantic and dream of kissing each other under the moonlight. belligerent gay tension.  
> \- anyways happy four weeks left of this fic


	12. XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "--Regardless, Ed was pretty sure that Ling had no damn clue about what boyfriends did, but he couldn’t judge, because he didn’t either."

Edward wasn’t surprised when he was woken up by Ling’s heel decking his face.

At the same time, however, that would be a lie. _We’ll take it slow,_ he had said, and Ling had essentially whined to death about how he and Ed should sleep and cuddle in the same bed the exact same day they’d put a label on themselves. Like he’d just ignored that, essentially. But apparently, _‘that’s what boyfriends do, Ed!’_

Alas, Edward was very soft, and not cruel or stubborn enough to turn him down. So much for having his own room.

\--Regardless, Ed was pretty sure that Ling had no damn clue about what boyfriends did, but he couldn’t judge, because he didn’t either. 

Not that Ed hadn’t thought other boys and girls were cute before, or anything. But this was all just.. new territory, to say the least. When he travelled around with Al, he’d come across a nice boy or girl every so often, and he might’ve flushed up a little-- but nothing more than that. Because they couldn’t afford to stop and stay in one place for long.

Good thing Ling had came in at the tail end of it all with the same issue, huh?

He remembered it being odd, the six months they were stuck together. Of course, he was mainly inhabited by Greed-- a little bit of a bittersweet reminder that Ling would leave eventually. Because he had his own goals. And it was weird, having a friend his own age. Winry didn’t really count, given they’d been friends for as far back as he could remember-- being more like a sister to him than anything. She was his mechanic. It wasn’t the same as having just a plain friend.

Not that Ling was plain.

Even then, from the beginning, Ed could tell Ling was anything but plain. He’d had an eventful life, he learned over the course of that stupidly-long camping trip together. Being a prince and all, Ling had the same issues with friends-- Lan Fan essentially being his Winry. But she was apparently indebted to his family and had been working with them for generations, or whatever. 

From what he’d heard, Ling probably wasn’t even allowed to make friends. That wouldn’t come as a surprise, even then he’d told Ed that he had essentially grown up on the streets every now and then. That idea had been cemented by a few of the stories that Ling had told him over a campfire in the middle of what Ed derisively liked to call ‘Hell’, and.. god, he sure did have a lot of people going out for his throat. Having that many people trying to kill him as a child.. and he told the stories so casually, too. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

To be honest, nothing felt like a big deal for them back then. There was always the ever-looming threat of the world ending as they knew it. Because his damn father had made some stupid, stupid decisions.

 _Once,_ Ling told him, _a butler tried to poison his ice cream._ He spat up blood for the little of a week. Another time, one of the street kids he’d befriended had ended up being the child of a couple belonging to an assassin’s group, and had quite literally stabbed him in the back when they were on a walk one day. The prime one he remembered Ling mentioning, though, was apparently the fact that he had a sparring teacher once. Ling had said he was like a brother to him, but he eventually had to force his hand and execute him for some reason. Ed brushed that off, as he didn’t want to know the reason.

The stories kept coming and coming, and Ed was sure he wasn’t remembering some of them.

He wondered why Ling had even bothered telling him them. Why he’d even bothered trusting him in the first place. Maybe he thought he was going to die on the Promised Day anyways, and didn’t find a point in doing otherwise. Better to get it all off of his chest then than never. Or maybe it was because Ling had the opportunity to kill him any time he wanted. He’d never fought Ling one on one-- other than a few sparring sessions-- but he’d seen him fight. Genuinely fight.

It was funny.

Edward was sure there was a lot more about Ling that he didn’t know. He’d never actually considered the thought of Ling being deadly to his well being on his own accord-- not until he’d been impaled, not necessarily. It really was funny. Trust was such a weird, little, fickle thing. Especially for Ling, who apparently had issues with that certain aspect of life-- yet had begun stirring beside him the moment Ed shoved his foot off of his damn face.

 _He would have to keep in mind that Ling was a light sleeper,_ he thought, blinking as Ling wriggled around to get more comfortable. The soft sounds of the probably-way-too-expensive-for-comfort sheets fizzled Ed’s senses, silently taking in the way the warm light of the sun through the windows cascaded across his hair-- face, nose.. it was just cute, you know?

Ed assumed he wouldn’t be much of a sap if he ended up settling down, but the name ‘sunshine’ seemed apt in the moment. Maybe he finally understood why Hughes gushed about Gracia so much now.

“Ling,” the alchemist sighed, “you gotta get up.”

Ling, in response, simply groaned-- shut eyes twitching in an almost signal that he was awake or at least somewhat coherent; before rolling and wriggling himself back up to Ed’s side. Edward wasn’t fond of the fact that Ling was definitely worryingly taller than him, and that especially showed when they were plain side-to-side-- but maybe Ling was just freakishly tall. 

Ed, at least, understood why Ling’s bed was this damn big now. It wasn’t meant for fitting at least fifteen people on it, or just being expensive and really really comfy-- it meant to fit Ling’s long and spazzy-ass limbs.

Speaking of the bed being comfy-- god, it really was. Ed stood by his mentality of the Xingese making freakishly good beds. He practically sank into the mattress, and the sheets essentially melted into him-- all velvety and nice. But not that kind of weird and cheap velvet. Like.. it was just.. nice. Ling’s bed had too many pillows, though. Ed was pretty sure he had one of every colour (although it was mostly variants of purples, yellows, and reds)-- and of every possible shape. 

It was also very, very warm. But maybe the little curtains draping down from the top frame of the bed made it that way, enclosing all the heat inside so it couldn’t escape. But there was a bit of a pleasant breeze-- although there wasn’t any wind of the sort in the room. It felt almost perfect.

“ _Ling,_ ” Ed repeated-- a little more insistent, derailing his own train of thought, “you’ve gotta do Emperor shit, don’t’cha?”

The only real response Edward got was Ling continuing to carelessly breathe into his shoulder, before wearily snapping his jaw shut and slitting his eyes open a crack. He didn’t seem too happy about the sudden awakening, or so Ed thought-- before he wrapped his stupidly long arms around him. Or so Ed considered they were, in his trapped state. At least they were warm and good for holding.

People, on the polar opposite end of the spectrum, told Ed that he was practically like an icecube. He was either overheating or extremely cold-- hence his wearing of three layers the lot of the time-- although he figured that was solely because of his automail. That was less of an issue with his flesh arm having returned.

“But I don’t _wanna,_ ” Ling protested, tugging Ed a little closer, and the childish tone of voice almost made him snort with how damn different it was to the look shot at him moments prior. “Can’t I get a day off?”

“Don’t think the old tight-asses on your council would like it.” Ed leant in, pressing a peck to Ling’s forehead-- just at the part where hair began to meet skin-- causing him to worm a bit against Ed’s hip. “I don’t think you can get a day off from ruling a country.”

Ling’s eyes slipped back shut in submission, and Ed simply smiled, running his-- now flesh-- fingers over and through his hair. Combing. It was always relaxing for Ed on the receiving end, he remembered. He always liked it when his Mom did it when he’d begun to grow it long. Maybe Ling would appreciate it some, too.

Apparently he had, with the way he drooped against him-- muscles turning into complete and utter mush as he laid. But maybe that was some kind of signal of defeat.

“I finally get a cute boyfriend and I can’t even spend my day with him,” Ling dramatically drawled, before nosing Ed’s cheek. “Cruelty. Pure cruelty.”

“I mean. I could follow you around, if you wanted me to.” Ling perked, and Ed turned his head-- meeting Ling’s nose with his own. “Planned to do shit in the library, but it isn’t really important. Can’t guarantee that I won’t cause any problems for ya, though.”

“Mm, causing problems at least adds a little bit of fun to the day, doesn’t it?” Ling snickered, and simply rolled his eyes under closed lids. “I’d like that, though. You could put some of them in line, I’d bet.”

“Rather not have “the Fullmetal Alchemist loses his shit on old Xingese man” in the headlines.” Ed murmurs, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind Ling’s ear. “If they’re being an ass, though..”

“Some of them are, trust me.” Ling snorts, and gestures his hands in the air. “I’ve had to yell at some of them a few times to put them back in line. Lan Fan calls it my ‘Emperor voice’.”

Edward’s brows raise. “Why the hell do you even gotta yell at ‘em, anyways? You’re pretty relaxed all the time I’ve seen you. Don’t think you’d be the type to burst a vessel.”

Ling shrugs his shoulders the best he can, laying on his side and all-- almost as if in a silent ‘what can you do’.

“A lot of them are _very_ insistent. I’ve told you before that a lot of them are pretty determined on keeping the old ways of the royal family, and I’m trying to get the people who force that mentality off.” Ling, absentmindedly, traces a finger along Ed’s back as he speaks-- some sort of unfamiliar pattern that Edward isn’t quite sure of. “I’ve told you before that their main issue is the consort thing. They want me to produce an heir, which I find quite nasty. That system is one of the things I wanted to change from the start.”

“I thought you named May the heir if something happened?” The alchemist questioned, and Ling simply nodded.

“I did, but they’re worried the gap between us isn’t enough if I die because of old age. They’re still a little upset that I didn’t ingest the stone, after all.” Ling leans in to press a swift peck to the tip of Ed’s nose, causing him to reflexively scrunch his eyes shut. “I also don’t think they’re fond of having an Empress, although that _has_ happened before. They don’t like me very much-- being young, unable to give them a genuine heir to the throne, and taking out old traditions that have been around for centuries. It’s tiring.”

“I’d bet,” Ed mumbles under his breath, and his gaze slowly drags towards the window. It’s almost instinct that he looked by that point, in consideration, just being a hitch worried that someone could come barging in like they had a few nights prior. He didn’t understand leaving Ling out in the open like that. 

“Regardless,” Ling murmured, voice a little more firm as he placed a hand to the top of Ed’s head-- effectively squashing it, “I do need to get up. If you follow me, it’ll get boring. I just sit on a throne and talk politics for hours upon hours a day.”

“‘M willin’ to make sacrifices,” Edward sighed, eyes fluttering closed as Ling’s fingers began to tangle themselves in his hair. “Probably not as awful as sitting and doin’ Mustang’s paperwork whenever I was in East City. Probably need to sit and let myself heal anyways, so it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Ling seemed to like that answer, judging by the way he lit up.

\--

Ling was right, actually. Standing in one place was boring as hell.

And maybe this wasn’t really considered resting, given he couldn’t.. really pull up a chair beside Ling, plop down in it, and call it a day (for whatever stupid reason that might be). He was pretty sure he’d get killed on sight for that. So there he stood, simply standing beside Lan Fan, watching over Ling’s shoulder. His wound ached, too, dully pulsing as he kept still.

But maybe getting exercise was something he should do. Needed to get himself back up and running again sometime, right?

“Fuck’s _sake,_ can’t I just sit down? Bring in a pillow, or _somethin’?_ ” Ed ushered under his breath, leaning over the top of the throne to mutter in Ling’s ear. Ling only seemed to blink, turning his head in response, before breaking the illusion of a stoic Emperor by simply _smiling._ “Do you really haf’ta sit on your ass here all day?”

Ed could practically feel Lan Fan’s gaze burning holes through the back of his head at the moment, ignoring the way the guards lining the walkway to Ling’s throne turned their heads in forced silence. It probably did look kind of odd, didn’t it? The image of an Emperor and a man who looked like a Xerxian mural in the flesh walking around and chatting together like nothing was wrong. Just casual and calm.

“I have to do that and paperwork,” Ling snorts, “you couldn’t help me with it, though. And no, you _aren’t_ allowed to sit. In fact, drawing away attention from the Emperor is something I could pretend is treason, if I really had the guts to.”

“The legal definition of treason doesn’t-- _god,_ you’re an ass.” Ed chortles, slinging an arm over the golden frame of the chair. The stupidly large, and intricate chair-- and Edward actually wondered how comfy it was, because it looked the part. “You’re so mean to me. I feed you my boot, and you won’t even let me sit beside you.”

“I’ll make sure to write that down in the history books when I get to it. A promise is a promise, and the Xingese don’t go back on their word.” Ling almost sounds like he’s quoting something, although Ed doesn’t necessarily remember hearing something of the sort before. “If you’re that insistent, though, you could sit on my lap!”

Ed sputters indignantly, drawing away from the throne, and Ling-- Ling simply grins, all joke and jest and no dignity. Edward, face as red as the thing that keeps the doctors away, shifts his gaze towards the people scattered about the throne room-- who quickly turn away, as if they’d been staring in awed shock moments prior.

 _“--Whatever,”_ Ed began, “I--”

“There’s someone here to see you, your majesty.” 

The alchemist practically felt more than saw Ling blink with him in unison, eyes slipping open a little wider. Leaning off of the throne, Ed silently clears his throat and stands back up straight, the light smile gracing Ling’s features now turning downwards into a neutral frown. He almost looked displeased, taking in the exclaimed voice to make up for the distance.

“Bring them in,” he sighs, and Ed doesn’t ignore the immediate shift. His voice seems to get colder, deeper-- more serious and firm. It didn’t sound like Ling at all.

The large doors to the room swing open, and Ed doesn’t miss the loud creak of the golden and oaken gates as they split apart. With how high the ceiling is, he can’t even be surprised-- squinting through the dim lighting as a person walks through the entrance. In the split of a second, Ling elbows him from the front of the throne, gesturing with his finger to get him to lean in close. And of course, Ed obeys.

“That’s one of the men I was talking about-- one of the old ones.” Ling whispers in his ear, side-glancing the approaching intruder, and Ed nods. “I’ve been trying to get him out, but the people always keep him in. He’s been on the council the longest, and I think the citizens like him because he acts nice. The older generations also prefer his beliefs, but he’s the most adamant on the consort thing.”

“Hot damn,” Ed murmurs, and pulls away-- fisting his hands in his pockets in a desperate attempt to at least look somewhat polite. It’d probably be better to put them behind his back or in front of his lap, like Lan Fan’s-- but he felt like he’d fidget more if he did that. Ling’s head turns back to face the entryway, and eventually to the floor as the man reaches the bottom step to the elevated platform.

Ling, immediately, seemed to regain his composure-- but not before taking a deep breath in that Edward once again wasn’t able to miss.

“Old man Wang, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Ling announces, and Ed notes that he’s speaking in Amestrian-- rather than Xingese. Almost like he was trying to make him feel included, in a sense. While Ed turns his head to peek and squint at the person before them, he notes a few things.

The man was certainly.. old, given the way his long hair had greyed-- tucked back into a loose, low, and frizzled ponytail. He had an extremely odd and mousey beard coupled with a long mustache, wearing nothing but completely and utterly black robes that swished whenever he moved around. Would’ve taken the attention all away from Ling, if he didn’t always insist on wearing stupidly bright colours.

The old man-- Wang-- seemed a bit curious at the sudden use of Amestrian as well, perking upwards with a solemn look on his face. _The wrinkles almost made him look grumpier than he presumably already was,_ Ed thought, and it made him purse his lips. _He didn’t look all that much of a happy camper, now did he?_

“The guards under my supervision have been telling me that you’ve gone missing recently, and consistently.” Ed’s brows arched at the response in the same language-- pronunciation almost perfect, beyond a little bit of accent. “Some vital paperwork of yours is past due, and you missed the meeting discussing the fate of the to-be-abolished consort law.”

Edward didn’t miss the way the man sneered, blinking at the way he stood tall, and to attention. He didn’t necessarily look frail either, as old as he probably was. He was probably a head or two above Ed-- about Ling’s height, which added a little to the intimidation factor. Strange.

“Give me a break,” Ling whined, tone almost a little mocking. Kind of weird knowing that Ling was still very much an Emperor, a year younger than him or not. “I’ve been busy with certain things. Your deadlines are always set too soon for one single man to humanely handle anyways.”

“That doesn’t excuse your repeated absence on multiple occasions, your Majesty,” the man reiterated, and Ling’s lips pursed. “Your main assistant guard was missing two nights ago. The Chang princess was missing. No one could find you in the palace, not until past midnight, when you reportedly and suddenly rushed in with a half-dead man-- and do you _know_ where that leaves you?”

While Ling’s lips quirked downwards, Ed’s fingers curled in his pockets-- biting at his lip as Wang continued. “Not to mention that new-- _Amestrian_ man beside you. Is he an ambassador? Because if so, we should have been informed.”

“He’s the _Fullmetal Alchemist,”_ Ling started, “and he--”

“I’m aware,” the old man’s voice boomed, “son of a Golden Being or not, he isn’t vital to this conversation. You go missing from the palace, miss your meetings, skip your paperwork, abolish old traditions-- and you just _sit_ here? What’s your excuse? Would you like to _tell_ us where you’ve been? Because perhaps there’s someone influencing your decisions, and as an Emperor, that isn’t just.”

The moment Ling tensed, Ed felt something in his jaw throb.

“Y’know, you should cut the Emperor here some slack,” Ed sighed, “for a guy who’s supposed to give advice specifically _without_ a stick up his ass, you sure do talk a lot of shit.”

Ling, jumping at the immediate intone, whipped his head around, pressing a finger to his own lips in a silent ‘shushing’ gesture. Ed, meeting fleeting eye contact for a second, slumped his shoulders, lips pursing in silent defeat. Lan Fan kicked the back of his heel as Ed retreated, resulting in a small jump and _yelp._

“Ignore him, Wang,” Ling sighed, and Edward’s lips turned downwards. “I’ve been doing a private investigation into some matters not concerning you. Edward, here, has been helping me with it. I would presume you wouldn’t like to butt into it.”

“I would actually like to know what you’re looking into,” the man rebutted, “if it’s that serious of a matter, then I believe the council should get involved. There’s no need to leave us in the dark like this, if it’s hindering your work.”

_Fuck._

Ed blinked, and Ling’s features seemed to grim.

“--You wouldn’t happen to know a fortune teller around here, then, would you?” Ling started, voice unnaturally flat-- and Ed’s fingers curled into fists in his pockets. The old man blinked, seemingly not expecting the change in tone, before frowning and huffing through his nose.

“Of course not. That’s a silly question,” he spat, voice laced with disbelief and venom, “ _preposterous._ Don’t change the subject.”

“Then you’re dismissed.”

Wang, in silence, blinked, before beginning to sputter and tense. Ed’s head turned in some form of piqued curiosity, only resulting in an uncaring shrug from Ling’s shoulders-- who hadn’t even bothered to turn and face the alchemist himself with the motion. 

Bowing in a rushed motion, the elder quickly stood himself back up and turned on his heel to pad out of the room-- the velvet and golden carpet bunching up with the sudden movement. After a moment of pacing, the man stopped in his tracks-- turning around and shooting Ed quite possibly the most scalding look he’d received.

“Golden _demon,”_ was all that was said, leaving Ed to cock a brow, blink, and _laugh._

\--

“I can see what you meant by stuck up old men, now,” Ed sighed, shovelling a large mouthful of noodles down his gullet. A few stray, buttery strands slipped off of his chopsticks, and Ling only scrunched his nose at the sight-- poking at his own octopus.

“I deal with that nearly every day, and you wonder why I looked so tired,” Ling snorts. “It’s frustrating. I’m not quite sure how they can go about doing the things they do. Maybe they just don’t think largely enough.”

Swallowing another bit of noodles that weighed down the sturdy mass of the wooden eating utensil with a little bit of force, Ed looked back up-- sucking the air in between his teeth as the knot in his throat began to fade.

“You need a damn vacation, or somethin’,” Ed remarks, lazily stabbing his chopsticks into a bit of floating pork. “Go to Resembool sometime. I’m sure you’d like the time off.”

Ling, seemingly not having considered the idea at all, blinked. Quickly enough, though, his gaze shifted back down towards his food-- anxiously shifting in place as he stared. Maybe he just didn’t want to eat that much, though it wasn’t like they bothered eating much breakfast.

“Speaking of,” Ling sighs, “what’re-- what are you going to do after all this, Ed? After we figure it all out? Go home?”

Ed pauses, gears clicking around in his brain as he registered the mental image-- before shrugging his shoulders, and glancing back down towards his bowl.

“I dunno. I didn’t really think about it that hard.” He muttered, contemplative. “I wanted to go to this place on the border of Creta and Amestris, but I’m not really sure.”

“The place that Dante mentioned? With the book?” Ling questioned, and Ed quickly looked up-- lips slightly parted, and quiet. And then his eyes shifted off to the side, brows knitting together-- almost like he was ashamed of something.

“Yeah.” Swirling his chopsticks around in his noodles and watching them float around, Ed tentatively clicks them-- before rocking around on his pillow. “Wanted to go there before all this because the Colonel gave me a book on it a really long time ago. Think I brought that up. Not so excited, now.”

After a moment of hesitation, Ling dropped his chopsticks back onto his plate with care-- causing Ed to jump back up in response. Flushing a little, the light red tinting his nose and ears never bothered to fade as Ling’s hand found his own, intertwining with his fingers. Edward blinked-- eyes owlish as the Emperor gave it a little _squeeze._

 _“Stay--”_ Ling started, before swallowing, “stay in Xing for a little bit. You don’t have to stay that long, but just-- don’t go immediately running out and off into danger, alright? I don’t want you coming back here dead.”

Ed pauses, almost running himself over the plead.

“..Yeah, alright.” He murmurs, a brow cocked. “You feelin’ okay?”

Ling nods, and lets out a little sigh. “Just.. if anything happens, don’t do something stupid again. You’ll give your brother heart palpitations.”

Edward blinks, before nodding.

“Yeah.. yeah, okay.” He mumbled, before shaking his head-- and lifting up Ling’s hand as he props his elbow up onto the table. “Speakin’ of--”

He pauses for a moment as Ling leans in to give the top of his hand a soft, quick and gentle _peck,_ almost instantaneously resulting in Edward himself averting his gaze and clearing his throat.

“--We still have to figure out what to do with Dante.” Ed murmured, and gestures his hand off to the side; before shoving his half-full bowl towards Ling, who immediately lifts his head back up from Edward’s hand. “Assuming she hasn’t left, y’know?”

“You can’t even sit and let yourself heal, can you?” Rolling his eyes, Ling scooches a little to snatch Ed’s bowl with one hand, taking the chopsticks and rolling some noodles onto them.

 _“Oi,”_ he intelligently remarked, “I can if I want! I just.. don’t want other people gettin’ hurt, I guess.”

“No, I had that same thought,” Ling piped, voice soft and hesitant. “The week you were avoiding me, I wasn’t really sure if we just gave up on it. I shouldn’t even be surprised that you’re already rushing to do things again.”

Ed snickered at that.

“Yeah, rushing automail recovery is a bitch. So is forcing an impalement wound to heal, but it’s already happened once, so it’s no biggie.” Ling frowns, and Ed’s left arm reflexively tucks towards his chest. “I can do it again.”

“It doesn’t mean you should,” sighing, Ling lifted his chopsticks, and shovels the food into his mouth-- resulting in the following words being somewhat muffled. “You’re already so beat up. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed, Ed.”

Removing his fingers from Ling’s own, Edward sets both of his arms back down on the table, using his now-free hand to massage at his left shoulder. His lips turn downwards at the loud and obnoxious sound of Ling slurping the noodles, golden eyes staring at Ling’s bedroom wall.

Ed was almost happy they’d decided to eat in Ling’s room. At least it gave them some privacy to just talk, you know? No one else could really barge in or overhear them or anything like they could in the dining hall. It was weird. Maybe Xing was just a little bit of a deadly place for certain people, now that he considered it

“Been told that.” Drumming his fingers against the table, Ed bit at his lip.

And for a few more moments, there was a stretch of silence, before Ed jolted.

“We do need to tell Al n’ everyone else that we’re kinda an item, huh?” he hummed, awed, almost like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Not-- everybody in fuckin’ Xing, obviously, but--”

“We can do that whenever you’d like.” Pushing the bowl of noodles away, Ling hunched forwards, cradling his own head in his hands. “I’m sure they’d support us through and through. Especially Al and you. You’re close.”

“Mm.” Ed stared out the window, just barely processing the muffled sounds of birds chirping and people conversing on the streets outside-- yet watching the sunlight bead through in showering rays. “Still..”

Ling’s head turned towards him, and for a moment, Ed thought that he might’ve been considering something important.

“..Maybe,” Ling starts, “we both need a little break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on the weekends every week or so!!!
> 
> hmu on tumblr or twitter (@elriccore) if u have any questions or fanart!!! id love to see or hear em!!!
> 
> \--
> 
> super epic chapter 12 fun facts -
> 
> \- my god im sorry this is out so late i was so busy today and im writing a paper in another class adn doing crunchwork and  
> \- does literally ANYONE know coulomb yao exists because i sure fucking do  
> \- ed is 5'3" including antenna and shoes. leetol but not awful. ling is a little bit over six foot  
> \- wang means 'king' in chinese!  
> \- ed: ling can literally kill me with his bare hands but not if i die for him first  
> \- ling sprawling out like an octopus and being a really fuckgin light sleeper is just a personal hc, but it's also just really fucking funny to imagine. also big spoon ed supremacy  
> \- sorry this is mostly filler but we ARE closing up in the next 3 chapters so.. :3 we'll see what that has in store  
> \- happy valentine's day! you get gay people!!!  
> \- the lap sitting joke was originally just a haha funny in the original draft but im too sleepy to fix it or write over it so this is what you get at the cost of my sanity  
> \- ""hey ed did you know i watched my mom die at age four"" "ling what the fuck"


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